


Hart's Divine

by NoriandeR2006



Category: Hart to Hart
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:53:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 102,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26672464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoriandeR2006/pseuds/NoriandeR2006
Summary: This is my first solo story, after finishing a couple of others that had never been completed by the original authors.  I had a lot of help along the way, first from my friend T, with whom I had many late-night conversations developing the idea, and from my beta readers, T again, and D, & B.  You all know who you are - I thank you!  :)I brought in several characters from the Hart to Hart series canon, including: Jonathan and Jennifer Hart, Max, Deanne, Marcus, Herschel Grey, Dr. Susan Kendall, and Doug, some with greater development, & no infringement intended.  New characters of my own invention include George Caldicott, Dick Eames, Stan Robertson, Franklin, Dr. Brian Pierson, and Nick Bartholomew, as well as few other minor ones.The time-frame of this story is very early in the Harts' marriage, (1978-79 or so); think after the Pilot, but before Episode one (ish).
Relationships: Jonathan and Jennifer Hart
Comments: 12
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first solo story, after finishing a couple of others that had never been completed by the original authors. I had a lot of help along the way, first from my friend T, with whom I had many late-night conversations developing the idea, and from my beta readers, T again, and D, & B. You all know who you are - I thank you! :)
> 
> I brought in several characters from the Hart to Hart series canon, including: Jonathan and Jennifer Hart, Max, Deanne, Marcus, Herschel Grey, Dr. Susan Kendall, and Doug, some with greater development, & no infringement intended. New characters of my own invention include George Caldicott, Dick Eames, Stan Robertson, Franklin, Dr. Brian Pierson, and Nick Bartholomew, as well as few other minor ones.
> 
> The time-frame of this story is very early in the Harts' marriage, (1978-79 or so); think after the Pilot, but before Episode one (ish).

**Part One**

**Chapter One**

_Sunday morning rain is falling_ _  
__Steal some covers, share some skin_ _  
__Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable_ _  
__You twist to fit the mold that I am in_ _  
__But things just get so crazy, living life gets hard to do_ _  
__Sunday morning rain is falling and I'm calling out to you_ _  
  
__Fi_ _ngers trace your every outline_ _  
__P_ _aint a picture with my hands_ _  
__Back and forth we sway like branches in a storm_ _  
__Change the weather, still together when it ends_ _  
  
__That may be all I need_ _  
__I_ _n darkness she is all I see_ _  
__Come and rest your bones with me_  
 _Driving slow on Sunday morning_ _  
__And I never want to leave_

_\- Maroon 5, “Sunday Morning”_

*********

“Darling, you’d better hurry or we’ll be late,” Jennifer called to her husband, who was searching for a suit in his closet. He walked around to the dressing room and came up behind her, kissing her neck lightly as he wrapped his arms around her.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered with a smile.

“Jonathan, we’ll be late,” she said again, but she smiled back at him in the mirror.

“Yeah, well, that’d just be par for the course. It’s not like anyone would be surprised.”

Fending off his advances to finish brushing her hair, Jennifer said, “Except your two guests of honor.”

Not giving up, Jonathan took her hand, pulling her around and into his embrace, continuing in his husky voice. “They’ll figure out sooner or later that we’re never on time to our own parties.”

She returned his embrace, enjoying the game, but she also knew that it was an important occasion for Hart Industries…and besides, their return home later that night would be all the sweeter for the anticipation the evening would bring. So she put her hands firmly on his chest, pushing him away with a smile. “Jonathan. This is too big a night – you need to be there to introduce your newest board members.”

Relenting and knowing, just as she did, that the evening would lead right back to this point, this moment between them, he went to put on his dinner jacket. “Most of the staff met them in the office today, anyway.”

“Oh, yes – how did that go?” she asked, having only had a chance to meet them briefly herself.

“I guess it was fine. Eames and Robertson may be good additions to the board, at least according to the shareholders, but I’m not so sure yet, for some reason – I can’t quite put my finger on it.” Jennifer turned to help him with his tie as he came back into the dressing room, and he continued.

“Eames has an attitude that could offend easily – but I’m hoping that first impression will be proven wrong.”

Jonathan winced a little as her hand brushed his jaw as she worked on his tie.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Darling – does your tooth still ache?”

“Yeah, it does, so I guess I can thank Dick Eames for one thing - he recommended an apparently brilliant new dentist in town. I’ll have Deanne see if she can get me an appointment.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Darling. So, what about Robertson? Do you think he’ll work out any better?”

“He seems to be working out well so far – he’s very capable, and certainly more likable than Eames. But…” he paused, as if uncertain he should go on, then admitted, “I didn’t like the way he was eying you this morning.”

“What do you mean? He seemed pleasant enough to me.”

“Well, his manners were irreproachable, I suppose.”

“Well, I didn’t notice...I’m sure it was nothing, Darling.” But she filed his comments away; they both knew he had nothing to worry about on that score, so the fact that he was bothered enough to voice such a concern meant that the man would bear watching. Jennifer trusted her husband’s instincts about people implicitly; he was rarely wrong, and if he seemed a bit uncertain about his new board members, then she was determined to observe both men a little more closely this evening.

As she finished with his tie, he pulled her into his arms again and said, “Enough about Eames and Robertson. I haven’t seen you since this morning - I want to know how the rest of your day was.”

Pleased that he’d asked, she settled into his embrace and said, “Busy, actually, but good. I had that interview with Sam Waters for the book this afternoon. It was quite interesting – he’s a colorful character, to say the least. Editing that conversation will be a challenge.”

“But it went well?”

“Yes, I’d say so.”

“Well, good – I can’t wait to read it.”

She smiled at him then left his arms to get her purse and her wrap, giving her reflection one more glance in the mirror. Satisfied that she was ready, she turned back to him, saying, “Well, Darling, the sooner we leave…”

“The sooner we’ll get home,” he finished, taking her hint. “Shall we?”

“Absolutely.” She took the arm he held out to her as they left the room, ready to enjoy an evening of flirting despite it being a business affair with important people who needed catering to. They would still have their fun.

*********

The party was in full swing and going well. They’d been through the formalities of introducing Richard Eames and Stan Robertson to the employees and various business partners of Hart Industries; now the affair had downshifted to mingling and small talk, and several couples were on the dance floor. Jonathan had spent a good deal of time that evening getting better acquainted with his new board members; his mind was eased somewhat after a chance to observe and interact with them. And, he supposed, time would tell what kind of trustees they’d be for the company.

Unlike Eames, who simply came off as arrogant, Robertson was calmer, more reserved, and more approachable. He also seemed to be constantly assessing everything and everyone with a calculating eye that Jonathan could appreciate in business, but didn’t quite like when it was turned on Jennifer. He couldn’t be sure what the man was thinking, or what that intense gaze in her direction could possibly mean. He was usually able to peg people’s interest and intentions toward his wife both accurately and quickly. Often there was attraction, admiration; Jonathan was certainly used to seeing that in the eyes of other men. However, most new associates wouldn’t be so clueless as to let it show, and surely not one as shrewd as Robertson was reputed to be. And yet there seemed to be something more in Robertson’s gaze; whatever it was with this man, it wasn’t simple lust. But Jonathan put it out of his mind, deciding it really wasn’t worth his consideration. Besides, he’d observed Jennifer’s discreet handling of him a little earlier and hoped the man would get the hint without his needing to say something more.

Glad his official responsibilities as host were over with, Jonathan began scanning the crowd for his wife, hoping to have a dance with her before the evening was over. Finally he spotted her, looking absolutely stunning in her emerald dress, which so perfectly set off her auburn hair and sparkling eyes. He paused to admire her as she mingled effortlessly with various people in the room, board members and other guests alike.

Since early in their marriage, Jennifer had taken it upon herself to organize and plan important functions such as this one for Hart Industries. The catering at their last party had nearly been a disaster. Fortunately, the guests had not been aware of it, but pulling that off had meant many a headache for her as she’d had to sort things out all evening. As a consequence she hadn’t been able to enjoy the event at all. This time around, though, things were going very smoothly thanks to their new caterer. They’d handled a few business luncheons at the office and with Deanne’s recommendation, she’d met with Mr. Bartholomew and agreed to give them a try. Consequently, rather than putting out fires this time, she’d been able to spend the better part of the evening mingling with the guests while casually observing the two newest members of the Hart Industries board.

Like her husband, Jennifer didn’t find Dick Eames particularly likable, but then as long as he brought valuable skills to the company, she supposed that his personality could be of secondary importance. She found Robertson pleasant enough, and if his gaze lingered on her for too long, she was gracious enough to not hold it against him - yet. Instead, she took it in stride, while actively discouraging him through her body language and expression. She was certain he got the message, and also that their other guests were none the wiser. She sighed, hoping that both men would turn out to be strong allies and supporters for Hart Industries; for all of its size and growth, it was still very much a family company, and the community formed by the tight-knit group at the helm was a major reason why.

*********

_He could see her from across the crowded room. He watched her, mesmerized. How lucky Hart was. He seemed to have it all – a successful business, lots of money, and her, too. How did he do it? Surely the man couldn’t be as great as everyone thought he was… and he couldn’t possibly deserve a woman like her. And yet there she was, completely taken with him, just like everyone else in the room. He found that it nauseated him. He turned away, responding to the person who’d come up to him, but his thoughts were still on her._

_Sure, Hart was successful in the business world, but he had to have some failings somewhere. He could see that the man treated her as one of his subordinates, clearly expecting her to serve him as everyone else did, he mused, watching as she performed one hostess duty after another. He well knew who was responsible for planning the event, while Hart was merely present, a figurehead. Of course, he would never expect her to do any work; she deserved to be on a pedestal, admired, worshipped, and attainable only by one who could really prove his worth. Surely Hart could be bested when it came to winning and keeping her affections. Well, he thought, his plan would soon be in motion, and then only time would tell. Time would tell all._

*********

Jennifer was trying to pay attention to the conversation going on around her, but she was suddenly tired of it all and felt she had reached the limits of her endurance for small talk that evening. She wished for it to be over, so she and Jonathan could go home and pick up where she’d insisted they leave off earlier. She politely excused herself and began looking for him. Then she felt it – smiling, she turned unerringly to meet his gaze from across the crowded room, sure that anyone observing them could see the sparks flying. He tilted his head, indicating that they meet on the balcony, rather than make their way through the crowd that separated them. She smiled at him and started making her way in that direction.

She arrived on the balcony before he did, and turned from the view when she heard the door opening behind her. Jonathan backed through, a glass of champagne in each hand.

“Ahhh, just what I needed,” she said, taking the glass he offered her. Clinking glasses, she went on, “Here’s to another successful Hart Industries affair, Darling.”

“Yeah, I think it went well,” he said, “but I’m glad it’s winding down. How soon can we get out of here?” He smiled at her conspiratorially, stepping closer and looking deeply into her eyes as he took a sip of his champagne.

“I thought you’d never ask. Is right now too soon?”

“Actually, I was hoping for a dance first,” he said softly. When she looked interested and glanced inside, he held her hand, and the look in his eyes said he did not want to go back inside.

“What? Here? Jonathan, we can’t hear the music out here.”

“Who needs music?” He set his glass down and drew her into his arms, tilting his head to kiss her as they swayed together to a silent melody only they could hear.


	2. Chapter 2

_Oh, look, there you go again_ _  
__P_ _utting on that smile again_ _  
__Even though I know you’ve had a bad day_

 _  
__Doing this…and doing that_ _  
__Always putting yourself last_ _  
__A whole lot of give and not enough take_ _  
__But you can only be strong, so long before you break_

 _  
__Fo_ _r_ _g_ _e_ _t about the world tonight_ _  
__All that’s wrong and all that’s right_ _  
__L_ _ay your head on my shoulder, let it fade away_ _  
__And if you want to let go, baby, it’s okay_

 _  
__\- Kimberley Locke, “Fall”_

*********

In the next couple weeks, Jonathan found that his days were getting busier, his work schedule more and more crowded. There were many demands on his time from various divisions of the company, and an important merger was in the works. He had always enjoyed his work and took pride in what Hart Industries had become over the years. Part of that success, he knew, was in finding trustworthy and reliable employees to whom he could delegate many of the responsibilities of running the growing corporation.

Lately, however, he’d felt a need to be more directly involved. Rather than leave the details to his capable staff, he began to feel that he needed to supervise things himself or they wouldn’t go well, wouldn’t get done to his satisfaction. It was a barely conscious thought, and one he couldn’t shake; he just knew he had to work harder to make things happen. Tasks seemed greater, more important, more difficult to achieve, and increasingly more demanding of his personal attention.

This nagging feeling mostly seemed to encompass his work, and his attitude, usually optimistic, seemed altered in a way he didn’t quite grasp. He felt more stressed at the office, and became irritated when the slightest thing went awry. He didn’t notice how his irritation and stress translated to the people around him; they began to walk on eggshells around him, when there had never been the need before. He was putting in longer hours, and taking work home with him - something he hadn’t done with any regularity in the few years since marrying Jennifer.

While Jennifer’s schedule was also quite full as her deadline approached, she was managing, as they both usually did, to balance her workload and the pressures surrounding it with her life at home. However, she’d begun to notice that stress seemed to be taking a toll on her husband, and that he didn’t seem as adept as usual at the balancing act between work and private life. He was more stressed than usual by his workload, much of which she was sure he could – and normally would – delegate. To anyone else the things she was seeing in him might seem insignificant, even normal – but not for Jonathan. It wouldn’t be for either of them. He was working late, bringing projects home so he could continue working, then oversleeping the next morning. She could tell he was exhausted, but rather than resting, he just pushed himself harder.

Even more telling, to her, was that he didn’t seem to recognize the signs, or realize the impact it was having on their lives. He uncharacteristically brushed aside her concerns when she expressed them. From the very beginning of their life together a few short years ago, they’d shared a deep-rooted bond and connection, one that meant they heeded each other’s thoughts and insights, especially regarding anything that impacted their relationship. It was as natural for them as breathing, and that this connection was being affected now troubled her.

*********

Early one day Jennifer came into the kitchen, appreciating the smells of breakfast that were wafting through the room.

“Good morning, Max,” she said, then, approaching her husband who was already seated at the table, she said, “Good morning, Darling,” and leaned down to kiss his cheek.

“Good morning,” he said, turning to meet her kiss with his lips.

Smiling, she sat down and asked, “How’s your day look today?”

“Pretty full. I’m afraid the merger with Porter Electronics isn’t going very smoothly.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. It’s surprising – things seemed so positive when we met with Paul in Chicago.” She paused to take a bite of her breakfast before going on. “I’m going to be near the office later – how would you like to meet me for lunch? That is, if you won’t be too busy…?” “Well, now, I’m sure that’s the best offer I’ll get all day.”

She smiled, relieved he wasn’t going to say he was too busy – something that, until recently, she would never have been concerned about. Taking another bite of her eggs, she said, “All right then. Margo is harping about this deadline so I need to run, but I’ll meet you at, say, 12:30, at Vittori’s?”

“Okay, Darling. It’s a date.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” she said, her eyes sparkling.

*********

Jennifer arrived just a few minutes late for their lunch date, but Jonathan wasn’t there. After waiting quite a while, it was clear that he’d been held up, so she got an order to go and headed over to the office. Deanne indicated that he’d been in meetings all day but that she hadn’t heard anything from him in a while – only that he hadn’t wanted to be disturbed.

“Thanks, Deanne.” 

Jennifer opened the door, expecting to see Jonathan at his desk, but he wasn’t there. In fact, it wasn’t immediately obvious that he was in the office at all. But then she turned and saw that he was on the couch; as she approached, it was clear that he was actually asleep. She knew he’d been working too much, but it was unusual for him to sleep during the day, particularly at the office. Reflecting on it, she couldn’t think of any other time it had happened.

“Jonathan?” she said softly as she approached him, setting the carry-out down on a table. When he didn’t respond, she reached down to touch him gently. When he still didn’t wake, she sat on the edge of the couch, saying his name softly again and squeezing his arm. He awoke with a start, looking confused.

“Huh? Oh, hi, Darling. Uh, what brings you here? I thought we were meeting at the restaurant.”

“We were – and I did, but you didn’t,” she said, squeezing his hand to let him know she didn’t mind.

“I’m sorry, Darling. I must have fallen asleep, which is odd…I don’t recall -” She again noted a brief look of confusion on his face.

“Jonathan, are you feeling all right? You’ve been working an awful lot lately. Maybe you’re coming down with something.” With a concerned look, she placed the back of her fingers on his forehead, glad when he didn’t appear feverish.

“Well, I don’t think so – but you’re right about the work.” He ran his hand over his face and through his hair as he sat up, trying to dispel the grogginess. He never slept during the day; now things felt off, askew. Suddenly he recalled that he had a big meeting that afternoon to prepare for.

“What time is it? I have to get going - ”

Jennifer shook her head, still concerned. “Un uh. Not until you eat something.”

Then he noticed the smell of food and smiled at her.

“When it was clear you weren’t going to make it, I figured you were tied up here so I brought Vittori’s to you. I just never imagined that you’d stand me up for a nap,” she said with a smile.

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” he said, caressing her arm through the silk of her sleeve.

“Well, yes, as a matter of fact you have. But not in so many words.” With that, she winked at him and took his hand as they moved to the table to eat their lunch.

*********

Later in the week, Jennifer arrived home to find her husband already there, a bit earlier than usual. She was glad of it, and hoped it meant that things were improving with the merger. But when she saw him, he looked just as tired and stressed as he had all week.

“Jonathan? You’re home early.”

“Yeah, I, ah, needed a break from the office so I brought some work home.”

She lifted an eyebrow at that. Jonathan occasionally brought work home with him - not usually because he couldn’t take being in the office, however, but rather to have some balance between time at work and at home. More often than not, he took whatever he brought, still unfinished, right back to the office the next day. But lately, he’d actually been working a lot in the evenings, much more than usual.

“How is everything? How’s the merger going?”

“Not so good, actually. I’ve had to take things back into my own hands, and I’m afraid the merger may still fall through. With Marcus out of town and so many other projects needing my supervision, I needed to be able to hand this off. I think the people at Porter are losing confidence, and I’d like to keep them on board.”

Jennifer could see the tension in his body as he spoke. She moved behind the couch so she could massage his shoulders. His muscles were tight, but she was pleased to feel him begin to relax under her ministrations, even as he began to say he needed to get back to work.

“Later,” she whispered by his ear, as her fingertips moved to gently massage his neck, then his temples. “I think you need a distraction, first. Something to get your mind off of the merger, at least for a while.”

“I like the sound of that,” he said, reaching for her hand and holding onto it as she walked around the end of the couch to join him. Once she was sitting beside him, he drew her into his arms and kissed her, and felt more of his tension melt away. She always had that effect on him, and he realized it was his real reason for coming home early; he simply needed and wanted to be with her.

Jennifer felt some of her own stress leave at the touch of his lips against hers, and knew that a break from the work routine, a few stolen moments just between them, was exactly what was called for. Breaking the kiss, she looked into his eyes and, without a word, took his hand as they rose and went upstairs together.

*********

Later that evening, Jennifer awoke to the sound of her husband’s clearly angry voice coming from the hallway. Confused and a bit alarmed, she sat up, wondering what was going on. A glance at the clock told her that it had gotten late. Who could he be talking to? She rose, threw on her robe, and went quickly to the closed door. Not normally one to eavesdrop, some instinct made her stop and listen through the door before going out.

Shouting as he was, his words were clearly discernible. It was obvious that he was talking to someone at the office on the hall phone. She was taken aback at _how_ he was talking to them – it wasn’t Jonathan’s style to shout, or to be so, so abrasive, to his employees and colleagues. His voice oozed with fury.

 _“_ _I cannot believe this! We’re getting down to the wire here and you lost it? You’d better find it soon or you’ll be gone! Do you hear me? Be in my office first thing in the morning – with a solution to this mess! Do you hear - ? Eight a.m. then and don’t be late!”_

When she heard him slam the receiver down in the cradle, she opened the door. Before she could say more than his name, she heard Max’s voice emanating from the foyer below. 

“Everything all right, Mr. H? Mrs. H?”

“Yes, Max, everything is fine,” she said, glancing down at him. He nodded and went gladly back the way he’d come, content to let her deal with whatever had gotten his boss’ back up so badly.

Jonathan said nothing, traces of anger still on his otherwise unreadable face. Looking at him but holding her tongue, she led him back into the bedroom; once inside with the door closed, she turned to him with a concerned expression.

“Jonathan, what was that all about?” she asked, facing him, her gaze holding his as she tried to read the expression in his eyes. Her hand went to his arm, moving up and down in a calming caress.

“I’m sorry, Darling. I just got some bad news about the Porter deal,” Jonathan said, trying to dispel some of the anger he’d felt, knowing somewhere in the back of his mind that it had been irrational and uncharacteristic of him to act as he had. He had a nagging sensation of something not feeling right.

“Well, it must have been really bad, for all the fuss and carrying on,” she said with a frown. She paused then, reaching up to smooth the crease in his brow, glad to see it melt away at her touch. “Darling, I think you’re working too hard. I hate to see you so stressed – surely it can’t be that terrible?”

“This is a very important deal - ”

“So important that you felt a need to ream someone out who’s working late on the merger as it is? You have good people working on this, Jonathan. They can’t be doing that poor a job. I’ve never seen you like that – heard you talk to anyone like - ”

“Oh, it wasn’t that bad…the situation is just getting under my skin. I’ll make it up to him in the morning.”

She looked at him, wondering at his dismissal, his lack of recognition of the extreme nature of his behavior. It wasn’t like him to show such a temper…but recognizing that perhaps he did see it and was embarrassed, she decided to let it drop. She moved closer, slipping her arms around his waist and caressing his back while still meeting his gaze.

“Darling, I know a lot is going on right now, and I’m busy, too, with my deadline approaching, but I think we both could use a break. Let’s go up to the cabin this weekend. What do you say?”

Wrapping his arms around her now, too, Jonathan smiled at her; he was sorry she’d overheard his tirade, but glad that she was letting it go. He wasn’t sure what had come over him – he’d just gotten so angry, and somehow hadn’t been able to stop himself. He felt badly but tried to dismiss it as an aberration, a rare loss of control due to stress. So instead, he chose to focus on her suggestion.

“That’s a great idea, Darling. Tell you what – I’ll have Deanne clear my schedule on Friday. I could use some time away – just you and me.”

His ready agreement eased her mind; she knew that a break would do them both a lot of good.

“That’d be wonderful, Darling. For now, what do you say we go find something to eat? Max surely gave up on us for dinner. We can bring a tray up and hide for the rest of the night,” she said.

“Another great idea.” He pulled her closer to him for a lingering hug, as thankful as ever to have her in his life. Then, arm in arm, they went downstairs to raid the refrigerator, both relieved and letting the incident slip from their minds.


	3. Chapter 3

_L_ _e_ _t it go,_ _  
__l_ _e_ _t it roll right off your shoulder_ _  
__l_ e _t it slide,_ _  
__l_ _e_ _t your troubles fall behind you_ _  
__and I don't mind_ _  
__i_ _f it's me you need to turn to_ _  
__we’ll get by,_ _  
__i_ _t_ _'s the heart that really matters in the end_ _  
  
_

_O_ _ur lives are made in these small hours these little wonders,_ _  
__t_ _hese twists & turns of fate time falls away,_ _  
__b_ _ut these small hours,_ _  
_ _t_ _hese small hours still remain_  
  


_\- Rob Thomas, “Little Wonders”_

*********

When Jonathan got home the next day, Jennifer was waiting for him. He could tell that something had happened. He could already feel the weight of it bearing down on him, whatever it was. Even so, he wasn’t prepared for the news she gave him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, as he greeted her with a kiss, just wanting everything to be normal.

“Well, it’s about Max,” she began, her arm around his waist as they walked to the couch and sat down.

A bit alarmed, he said, “Oh? What is it? Where is he?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Darling – Max is fine – he’s out doing the shopping. But I got a call a little while ago. Actually, it’s about his sister, Jenny.” She paused before going on, and he could tell from her stricken expression that it wasn’t going to be good. “She and Greg were, ah, killed in car accident early this morning.”

Jonathan closed his eyes, gripping her fingers, then looked at her again. “What about Doug?”

“He wasn’t with them.”

“Well, thank goodness for that.”

She just nodded – she’d only met Max’s sister and her family a couple times. They lived at opposite ends of the country, and Max usually went to them for visits. Jonathan had, of course, met them on several occasions over the years.

“They need Max to go out there. I’ve already made the flight reservation.” “Yes, of course he needs to go. He’ll be the executor of the estate, maybe even Doug’s guardian. When do you think he’ll be back?”

“Any time now, I should think.”

Jonathan nodded, thinking over how they would tell Max. The sudden loss of his sister and her husband was going to be quite a blow.

*********

When Max arrived home, they called him into the living room. He could tell something was up, and was quite distraught at the news. He also knew things had been stressful in the Hart household of late, and in a fit of denial, tried to insist he was needed at home.

“Max,” Jonathan said, gripping his arm to convey his sympathy, “I’m so sorry. Don’t worry about us – you’re needed there to see to Jenny’s affairs.”

“There are lawyers for that…Greg’s family…”

“Max, Jenny’s interests need to be represented. You’re the closest family Doug has now. He needs you.”

Breaking down, Max had to agree with that. “Yeah…I guess it’ll be up to me to look after him somehow.”

Jennifer reached for his hand and said, “Don’t worry about us, Max. We can handle things here while you’re gone.”

“She was always such a great sister. I’m sure gonna miss her,” he had to pause before he could go on. “What will Doug do now? Well, I guess someone has to help him, and I’d prefer it was me.”

“Take all the time you need, Max. If you need help with anything, managing the estate or Jenny’s affairs, just let us know.”

“Thanks, Mr. H, Mrs. H. I will.”

“You’re leaving on the red-eye tonight, Max, unless you’d prefer something earlier…”

“No, that’ll be fine. Thanks for making the arrangements, Mrs. H. I guess I’d better get ready – after I put the groceries - ”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, Max – we’ll take care of it.”

“Max, are you all right?” Jonathan asked, concern on his face.

“Yeah. No, not really. But I guess I’d better be, for Doug’s sake.” He got up to go pack. They just watched, feeling helpless, as he left the room.

“Oh, Jonathan.”

“I know, Darling. It’s been quite a shock. I’ll check on him in a little while.”

She nodded in agreement.

“I’ll just see about the groceries and something for dinner,” she said and she left him on the couch, lost in his own thoughts.

*********

Later that night they drove Max to the airport.

“Let us know what’s happening, okay, Max?”

“Okay, Mr. H.”

Jennifer hugged him, then said, “Please call if you need anything, Max. We’ll be here.”

“Aren’t you off to the cabin tomorrow?”

“Well…” she began.

“You should go. You both need it. Badly. Don’t worry about me – it’ll take a few days to get things settled and in order anyway. Besides, I can call you there as easily as I can at home.”

Jonathan and Jennifer exchanged a look – they hadn’t yet discussed their plans for the weekend.

“We’ll think about it, Max. We want to be here in case you need us,” Jonathan said.

“What I need is to not be worrying about the two of you while I’m gone. You’ve both been working too hard if you ask me, and you’re way too stressed. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. Go. I’ll call you there if I need anything.”

Exchanging another glance, they agreed; both knew everything Max had said was true. They did need it.

“Okay, Max.” Jonathan hugged him. “Take care. We’re so sorry.”

Jennifer hugged him again. “Call in the morning when you get there, Max. We love you.”

They finished saying their goodbyes and waited until he had boarded the plane and it had left the terminal before going home to a strangely quiet house.

*********

Friday morning after hearing from Max that he had arrived safely, Jonathan and Jennifer headed for their mountain cabin, ready for a little time away together, even if their thoughts were on Max and their moods were subdued. Jennifer did a lot of the driving since Jonathan was feeling tired; he dozed a good deal of the way. This was unusual but knowing how stressed he’d been lately, she was glad he was getting some rest.

Once they arrived at the cabin, they spent the rest of the afternoon getting settled. They brought everything in and unpacked, then Jennifer got started in the kitchen, putting groceries away and pulling together a simple meal for them, while Jonathan brought in some wood for the fire – it was a beautiful autumn evening, and it was going to be a chilly night.

When it was almost ready, Jennifer called out to Jonathan from the kitchen, asking him to get a bottle of wine to go with their dinner of fruit, cheese, and the fresh baguettes they’d picked up at the bakery down the road. Not getting any response, she went out to the living room carrying the tray of food, where she found Jonathan staring into the flames of the nicely roaring fire. He didn’t look up when she called to him.

“Jonathan, did you hear me?” she said. Frowning slightly, she moved to put the tray down and turned to him when she still got no response. She went around the end of the couch, peering at him. He was still staring into the flames, unmoving. A somewhat sad, yet also strangely blank look was on his face.

“Jonathan?” she said a little more urgently, and he started out of his reverie, looking at her as if wondering where she’d come from.

“Hey, where were you just now?” she asked, only half teasing.

“Oh, ah, just thinking,” he said. But she caught the fleeting, confused look that crossed his face.

“Darling, are you all right?” she asked, her concern showing on her face.

“Yeah, I’m fine – really. Just tired, I guess.”

Looking somewhat unsatisfied with that response, she said, “You’ve been under too much pressure lately, Jonathan. It’s a good thing we came away for the weekend.”

“Yes, it is,” he agreed, smiling at her. “So, did you need something, Darling?”

“Yes – a bottle of wine.”

“Okay. I’ll get one,” he said, getting up and leaving Jennifer a few moments to think about what had just occurred. It was unusual for him to be so inattentive, so out of it, but she tried to brush it off, knowing how hard he’d been working lately.

When he returned she let go of her misgivings. They enjoyed their meal, and talked about how best to pass the time for the rest of the evening. It was sounding quite promising, she thought to herself with a smile, as she carried the tray back into the kitchen.

After cleaning up, she went back out to the living room, where she found Jonathan fast asleep on the couch. His breathing was rhythmic and steady, and she could tell he was deeply asleep. She smiled, disappointed that their fun would have to wait. But knowing how much he needed the rest, she didn’t want to disturb him. She covered him with a blanket, kissed his forehead and went to bed alone. But she found it difficult to sleep, her mind busy, preoccupied. Eventually she drifted off, but her sleep was disturbed and restless.

In the middle of the night, having awakened to find himself on the couch, still half asleep and somewhat disoriented, Jonathan realized that Jennifer must have gone to bed without him. He rose and made his way to the bedroom, changed quietly into his pajamas and joined her in bed. Sensing his presence beside her, she turned toward him, resting her head on his shoulder. His arms went around her, and they both fell into a deeper, more restful sleep.

*********

The glow of early morning light gradually awoke Jennifer the next morning. The fresh air, the peace and quiet of the mountain, so different from the sounds of the city, lulled her senses and eased her mind. She was pleased to find that Jonathan had joined her in the night, since she was resting on his chest. The steady beating of his heart and rise and fall of his chest as he breathed always had a calming effect on her. It was such a pleasant way to wake up, and having the added luxury of not needing to get out of bed felt like a bonus. When Jonathan also woke up, they lingered there together, neither eager to get up, until finally the phone rang, and, knowing it was probably Max, they made an effort to answer it.

Max reported that he and Doug we doing well, all things considered, and were talking about taking time to do some traveling together once the funeral was over. Max wanted to spend some quality time with his nephew, getting to know him for the young man he was already growing up to be, before making any decisions regarding his immediate – and more distant – future. Jonathan and Jennifer heartily agreed with and supported Max’s plan, although it meant a longer absence before he could return home.

Jonathan thought that he ought to feel more rested than he did that morning, all things considered. Instead he felt groggy, and he’d woken up with a headache as well. He hated feeling poorly, especially when he wanted to relax and spend time with Jennifer, so he took some aspirin and hoped that it would go away quickly.

After eating a late brunch, Jonathan suggested they go for a walk, and so they set out into the fresh mountain air and relative quiet of the woods.

They took their time, eventually ending up down by the lake, where they sat at the end of the dock. They rolled up their pant-legs and dipped their toes in the water, agreeing that while it was fine for toes, it was too cold for swimming. Jonathan leaned against a post, and Jennifer moved so she could recline against his chest, his arms encircling her.

By unspoken agreement, they kept their conversation to anything other than work and issues from home – it was as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist and all of its seriousness had vanished along with it. Jennifer even managed to put aside her concerns for Jonathan; aside from mentioning a headache that morning, he seemed relaxed and at ease in general, more himself than he’d been in a while. As the day went on, everything that had been happening in their too-busy lives seemed to melt away into insignificance.

Hugging Jennifer tightly against him, their feet still trailing in the cold water of the lake, Jonathan whispered in her ear.

“Darling, I’m sorry I fell asleep last night. How about I make it up to you today?”

Jennifer smiled at the thought, her fingertips idly caressing his arms, which were still wrapped around her. She felt secure in them, as always, and the cares of the world - of Hart Industries, Margo, Max, on and on - seemed very far away. There were only the two of them, and nothing else mattered. She wanted the feeling to last forever – or at least as long as possible.

“I think that’s a grand idea, Darling.” She rolled her head over to the side, resting against his arm so she could look up into his eyes. He returned her gaze, then tilted his own head so his lips met hers in a soft yet sensual kiss. One hand raised, his fingertip caressed the line of her face while his other arm still held her tight.

They reluctantly broke their kiss as they heard voices shouting and laughing; the sound of a motor-boat approaching the dock interrupted their quiet interlude by the lake. Their heads still inclined toward each other, Jonathan whispered again in her ear.

“Let’s go back to the cabin and watch the sunset from the deck…it’s getting too crowded down here.” The huskiness in his voice held the promise of more than just a sunset viewing, and sent a thrill through Jennifer’s body; she loved that special tone in his voice that no one else ever got to hear.

“The sun won’t be setting for hours yet,” she commented.

“Well, I’m sure we can think of something to do until then,” he replied, a twinkle in his eye belying the serious look on his face.

They got up, reclaiming shoes and socks, and began to make their way, arm in arm, to the trail that would take them back to the cabin. The path was steep in places, and soon Jonathan was leading the way, still holding Jennifer’s hand. They both knew the trail well, so Jennifer was a bit surprised when Jonathan seemed to stumble, almost as if he’d lost his balance. But he recovered quickly, muttering something about tripping over a root, and they moved on. Jennifer’s thoughts were so far removed from her concerns that she dismissed it easily from her mind.

*********

Awareness came slowly, until Jennifer awoke at last, feeling not only the pleasant warmth of the fire on her face, but also that of Jonathan’s body spooning hers. They were under a soft blanket that covered them against the chill of the night, although between him and the fire, she almost felt the blanket was unnecessary. Then she smiled, her senses coming alive, as she realized that the warmth spreading throughout her body was caused not by the fire or the blanket, but by the soft touch of her husband’s hand as he caressed her. Thinking back over the evening, she was only a little surprised that he was awake and in the mood yet again, but then, she wasn’t about to complain – quite the contrary, she thought, as she enjoyed the sensations he was giving her.

Jonathan had never quite gotten all the way to sleep, aware as he was of his wife’s lovely form pressed against his. He found his own body once again eager to meld with hers, and he knew just how he wanted to achieve it. He intended to take things very slowly, giving her as much pleasure as he could. He sensed it when she awoke, sure he could feel her smile. As she turned her head toward his, he whispered, “Shhh,” encouraging her to remain where she was and simply enjoy the attention he was lavishing on her. He smiled as he felt her relax more deeply, nestling back into the warmth of his body, surrendering to whatever plan he had in mind. He loved the way her body felt next to his, the way they fit together perfectly. His hand roamed up and down her legs, over the smooth, tender softness of her side, her stomach, and the soft roundness of her breasts. He tried to convey with every stroke of his fingers how much he loved her, how much she fulfilled every wish, every desire, every need that he had ever had.

Jennifer, her eyes closed, still half drowsy with sleep, felt as if she had entered a dream world, full of physical sensations that made her feel vividly alive. Everywhere his fingers touched her left a trail of heat that, had she opened her eyes, she was certain would have a visible aura. Her breath quickened and she curved her body to have more contact with him. She reached out, and his other hand reached to clasp hers; he didn’t want her to move, to participate, just yet – just to receive. Again she acquiesced, letting out a contented, satisfied moan, lapsing again into the dream world that was filled only with him, with the physical sensations that he was causing in her. Then the intensity of it was overwhelming, causing a cascade of sensation to flow through her - she felt as if she was falling, but knew instinctively that his arms held her still, and that he would be there, as always, to catch her. When at last he moved to join his body with hers, she was more than ready, and moved with him now in a dance of soaring mutual desire that left their senses reeling. As they fell back down to earth, together, as if in a soft, gliding circle, each supported the other until awareness returned to them and they found themselves back in the cabin, in front of the glowing embers of the fire.

As Jennifer slowly came back into herself, she was overwhelmed with a different sensation – one of relief, and thankfulness, that their bond was still intact, their connection unbroken, and she wondered that she had feared it otherwise. She held his arms, still encircling her, trying to convey her love for him through her touch. Words were unnecessary and would only have been an intrusion on the profound, physical conversation they’d just had.

He had told her how he loved her, and she had accepted it and returned it to him, all without words. She turned in his arms just enough to meet his gaze, to reach up and caress his face with her fingertips, still communicating her love for him. Their lips met in a kiss as tender and as passionate as any they’d ever shared. Then she turned back to face the fire, her head resting on his upper arm as she again snuggled back into the loving warmth of his embrace as they drifted off to sleep.

*********

Jennifer awoke first the next morning, wishing that it wasn’t already the day they had to return to the city. She stretched, luxuriating once more in the quiet peacefulness, but this morning she felt a desire to get up and get outside rather than lying around in their makeshift bed by the fireplace, even though they’d had a late night…she smiled at the memory of it.

“Jonathan…”

He moaned a little and turned toward her, his eyes opening slightly to look at her. 

“Hey, sleepy head,” she said with a smile.

“Isn’t it awfully early to be awake? We’re on vacation,” he mumbled drowsily.

“Well, yes, it’s early, and I know I should be exhausted,” she said, returning the knowing smile he gave her, “but actually I feel full of energy this morning.”

“That’s great, Darling, but I hope you didn’t want me to do anything about that right now…” he said, his eyes drifting shut again.

She propped herself up on her elbow, still looking down at his handsome face, and said, “Well, that does sound like fun, Darling, but maybe later. Actually, I was thinking of going into town to the bakery for some of those croissants they make so well. I know how you like them.”

“That’d be wonderful, sweetheart,” he said, his eyes still closed.

“In fact, I think I’ll walk down. It’ll take me a little while but it’s early yet. Go back to sleep and when I get back, we’ll have breakfast...then we can see how much energy we have.”

“Okay – sounds good,” he mumbled softly, already drifting back to sleep. She leaned over to kiss him. “I’ll be back in a little while. Sleep well,” she said, pausing to watch him a moment longer as he slept. He was obviously more rested than he had been in some time; their trip to the cabin had been just what they’d needed, and it was clearly having the effect on him that she’d hoped for. He looked…like he normally did: like the man she knew and loved so well, and so different from the stressed-out version of himself that he’d been over the last few weeks. Her thoughts strayed vaguely over those events, which seemed so distant now. But she left them behind again as she rose quietly to shower and get dressed for her walk into town, confident those times were behind them now.

*********

Jonathan awoke with a start, his pulse racing. Remnants of a nightmare flitted through his mind, but he couldn’t recall them before they were gone, leaving only a vague yet strong sense of unease. He found it unsettling, and looked next to him for Jennifer, but she wasn’t there. He closed his eyes, resting back on the pillow, and tried to dispel the sense of foreboding that still gripped him, to calm his heart while waiting for her to come back to bed. After several minutes, she still hadn’t returned. Then he noticed that the cabin was unusually quiet – there were no sounds of her moving around, and he began to realize that she must not be in the cabin at all. Something about the quiet disturbed him, although he couldn’t say why. He got up and went to the bedroom, the kitchen, checked the deck, but she wasn’t there. She wasn’t anywhere in the house. The feeling of dread he’d thought was left over from the nightmare began to steal over his consciousness again. It wasn’t like her to have just left, without saying anything, without leaving a note, at least. He glanced out the window and saw that the car was still there. She must be here somewhere, he thought. Absent-mindedly he threw his robe on over his pajamas and slipped his feet into his slippers. He searched the cabin thoroughly again, then made his way outside.

She didn’t answer when he called her name. His dread began to grow into a more active sense of fear. _What if something had happened to her? What if she’d fallen, and was hurt? Unconscious?_ He tried to calm down, knowing they’d been in a rough spot or two before, but somehow he just couldn’t shake the idea now that she was in danger, and he had no clues at all to her whereabouts. He rushed down the trail toward the lake. _What if she’d drowned? What would he do?_ He couldn’t live without her; he knew that much. He went faster, looking frantically now for any signs of her passing. But everything was quiet, the woods, the lake, undisturbed – there were no signs of anything untoward. Not knowing what else to do, he raced back toward the cabin, wondering if she’d be back, planning to go in another direction if he didn’t find her there, and feeling certain, with mounting panic, that he wouldn’t.

In a rational corner of his mind, he knew he was overreacting, but somehow he couldn’t help it – his fear for her safety overtook him and he couldn’t shake it. Everything became focused on the various dangers that could have befallen her. Anger now rose in him, too, clashing with – and exacerbating - his panic; anger that she’d gone off without him, that she hadn’t told him, that she hadn’t woken him. Again his rational mind knew she could take care of herself, that she wouldn’t disregard her own safety, that she probably wouldn’t have left him at all, under the circumstances, let alone with no indication of her plans. But that thought only brought his panic to the fore again.

He burst through the door of the cabin, and there she was, in the kitchen, turning toward him as he came in. Now relief threatened to overwhelm him and he rushed to her.

*********

When Jennifer returned to the cabin, she was completely unprepared for the scene that would follow. She saw that Jonathan was no longer asleep in the pile of blankets in front of the fire, nor was he in the bedroom or the bathroom. Figuring that he must have stepped outside for some fresh air, much as she’d felt the need to do, she went about warming the croissants and putting them on a tray with butter and marmalade and orange juice, deciding that breakfast in bed would become breakfast on the deck, where they could enjoy the view on their last morning at the cabin.

Suddenly, Jonathan burst into the cabin; his robe, tossed carelessly over his pajama bottoms, was hanging open and his slippers were wet with dew.

“Jonathan, where have you been dressed like that - ?” was all she could get out before he had run to her, grabbed her arms and hugged her fiercely against him. One glimpse of his face – which held an expression she couldn’t quite interpret – and her world, so wonderfully affirmed the night before, began to crumble right before her eyes.

Abruptly, he was holding her at arm’s length, practically shaking her, and as she listened to him in shock, it dawned on her that what she saw in his eyes was fear, and panic – two things she’d never seen in her husband before. And, she realized, there was a hint of anger in them as well.

“Jennifer! _Where have you been?_ I’ve been worried sick! I woke up and you were gone!”

“Jonathan, you know where - ” she started to say, but he was still on a tirade, and didn’t hear her.

“The car was still in the drive so I guessed you’d gone for a walk, but I couldn’t find you and you didn’t answer me when I called. You didn’t come back…I was sure you’d gone over a cliff or something…” Then he started pacing around the room, as if he couldn’t stay still, overreacting in a way she’d never seen or ever expected to see in him.

“Jonathan!” She moved to intercept him but he was still pacing. Then he turned to her suddenly, grabbing her again, making her gasp as his fingers dug into her arms. She searched his face for some sign of what was happening to him, and all of his odd behavior over the last couple weeks, which she’d almost succeeded in dispelling from her mind, came crashing back into her awareness, distracting her, threatening to overwhelm her. She stood there, immobilized, staring at him a moment longer as he continued to rant.

“Jennifer! What happened to you? I was scared to death – you were just gone – no note, nothing - ”

Then, as if snapping out of a bad dream, she knew that first and foremost, she needed to get through to him as quickly as she could. Any speculation about what was really going on would have to wait. Despite the almost painful grip he’d maintained on her upper arms, she reached up with both hands to hold his face, her palms resting on his cheeks. She said his name softly, trying to gain and hold his attention, to get him out of the panicked state he was in. When he didn’t respond, she spoke more sharply, while maintaining her soothing touch on his face.

“Jonathan! Stop! Shhh - listen to me!” When it seemed like she’d gained his attention, she went on in a more soothing tone. “Jonathan, Darling, I’m okay. You see? I’m here, I’m back, and I’m fine.” She ran her hands down his arms as he released his hold on her, then took his hands firmly in her own and led him to the couch. Once seated, she moved quickly to embrace him, trying to reassure him with her touch, the feel of her body against his. It appeared to be working – as she drew back, keeping her hands on him, she could see him calming down as he looked at her, the panic, at least, leaving his eyes. He looked dazed, now, and confused as he looked at her, as if seeing her for the first time. It unnerved her to realize it.

“Jennifer?”

“Yes, Jonathan, I’m back. I just walked down to the bakery.”

“The bakery?” He rubbed his eyes, as if trying to collect his thoughts. “Yes, I told you earlier I was going to get croissants for breakfast…but it appears you were still mostly asleep at the time.” She smiled as she said it, trying to ease his mind while at the same time hiding how concerned she was. Her mind was racing as she tried to figure out what could have happened to him during her short absence.

“Oh – I, ah, I don’t remember that.”

“What do you remember?” she asked, probing to get at what was going on.

“Only that I woke up and you were gone. It seemed like it had been a long time – I don’t know why. You didn’t come when I called, so I went out looking for you.” He seemed somewhat confused about it now.

“Why did you think something had happened to me?”

“I, I don’t know. Frankly it all seems a bit hazy now.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m okay.”

“Yes, yes, I see…I’m sorry if I worried you, Darling.” He rubbed a hand over his face, his eyes.

Uncertain what was going through his mind, she reassured him again that everything was fine, while still searching his face for clues to his state of mind. She was relieved to see that he was calmer, and his eyes had lost the panicked look.

“Why don’t you go get cleaned up and then we’ll have breakfast on the deck, okay?” she suggested. He simply nodded in agreement and left to take a shower.

Jennifer was glad for a few minutes alone to review what had just happened. She turned and went out onto the deck, where she stood at the rail that overlooked the beautiful morning view of the mountains. But she didn’t see any of it - her mind was whirling as she went over the last few minutes with Jonathan.

 _How long had he been out there, searching for her? What had made him think she was in danger? What if something had happened to him? Why didn’t he remember talking to her earlier that morning?_ That question in and of itself would not have been so alarming - it could easily have been put down to him being half asleep at the time, when things are remembered as if in a dream or perhaps not at all. Except…except for the scene that had greeted her on his return. He was clearly distraught, had clearly not been himself. _What was happening to her husband?_ It was as if he was slipping away from her, somehow - and perhaps had been for a while now, she suddenly realized. And it was getting worse. She wondered how, or if, this episode was connected to the other things that she’d noticed in him over the past few weeks.

Jennifer closed her eyes against the beautiful view, against everything that was happening, wanting desperately to ignore the sense of dread that was creeping over her. But she couldn’t ignore it. Not if she was going to figure out what was happening, not if she was going to help him. She turned away from the deck rail and went inside, moving somewhat mechanically to the refrigerator. She took out some strawberries and began washing and slicing them to add to their breakfast. She just needed something to do, to distance herself from her own thoughts, even if just for a few minutes. She needed to be on a more even keel when Jonathan rejoined her; she had no intention of letting him see her despair and unease – at least not right away, not until she could understand something about what was happening, especially since he seemed somehow unaware of it himself.

*********

Jonathan found the warm water washing over him to be strangely refreshing, revitalizing. He’d been so tired, but at the moment couldn’t say why. But then he smiled, remembering the wonderful day, and night, he’d just shared with his beloved wife. Their first few years together so far had been an unending honeymoon, and yet moments like what they’d shared this weekend had become increasingly rare, and that wasn’t something he was prepared to accept. This time away with her, away from the cares and worries of the office, had been just what he needed to help him regain perspective. He reflected on that, realizing that things had gotten out of hand lately; he had been working too hard, much too hard, on things that could have been delegated. Why hadn’t he realized it sooner?

Much as he’d always enjoyed his work, he didn’t normally let it take over so much of his life. He valued his time at home and knew that all his previous hard work over the years now allowed him the time he cherished with Jennifer. Besides, he knew he had employees he could trust to take care of the details. His understanding of that seemed to have changed lately, and he couldn’t say why.

He turned his face into the stream of warm water, letting go of his thoughts about work as it washed over him, turning instead to the miracle that was the woman with whom he now shared his life. She was the reason he would no longer allow work to dominate so much of his time. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing any of the closeness they’d shared since they first met.

When Jonathan had finished showering and dressing, he found Jennifer at the sink, slicing strawberries. He went up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, bending his head down and through her hair to kiss her neck. Her head came up and he thought she stiffened momentarily, but dismissed it as unlike her. He could feel her smile, then, and putting down her knife, she relaxed into his embrace.

“Feeling better, Darling?” she asked him as casually as she could.

“Better?” He sounded confused by her question. 

“Um, yeah, I feel great, Darling. Why do you ask?”

Wondering, and glad she was facing away from him, she simply said, “Oh, no reason. You seemed pretty out of it earlier.”

“Well, I slept like a rock. How long have you been up?”

She realized then that not only did he not remember their first, early-morning conversation, but not their second, either…and possibly not anything in between. The thought that he could have lost the entire morning sent a chill through her. But she succeeded in masking her shock well, saying, “I got up earlier and went down to the bakery for some croissants. I know how much you like them.”

“Well, thanks, Darling. I’m surprised I didn’t hear you get up. I must have been really tired…it seems I was up most of the night,” he said, kissing her again.

She heard the special tone in his voice, could feel his lips as they curved into a smile against her neck, his arms holding her closer. Tears sprang unbidden to her eyes at the knowledge of what he did remember. She swallowed, closing her eyes and struggling to control her emotions: relief that he wasn’t losing all memory – or rather, memories of them, of her - at war with her concerns about what he apparently had lost, and his increasingly inexplicable behavior. She leaned back more deeply into his embrace, one hand tightening on his arm as the other reached up and back, unerringly, to caress his face. Then, careful not to betray her fear and worry for him she picked up her knife to continue working on the strawberries. She suggested that he go sit out on the deck to enjoy the morning, saying she’d be right out with their breakfast. He left with a departing kiss to her cheek, and after he’d gone she finally was able to take a deep, ragged breath, marshaling her emotions and her energy to deal with whatever would come next.

*********

Jennifer managed to keep her emotions in check as they had breakfast, all the while watching him closely and trying not to be obvious about it. But, ultimately, she was as unable as ever to hide anything from him.

“Darling?”

She looked at him, realizing she’d been staring into space and hadn’t heard him speaking. “Hmm?”

Jonathan reached across the table for her hand, which she squeezed in return. “You’re preoccupied about something – what is it?” She looked down briefly, and sensing her reluctance, he was glad when she answered, although surprised at her words.

“I’m sorry. I was…” she paused, then seemingly switched gears, going on in a rush, “Jonathan, would you mind terribly if we went home early?”

“Well, of course, Darling, we can leave early if you want. Aren’t you having a good time?” He leaned toward her as he said it, a grin on his face, knowing the answer. If he noticed her tight grip on his hand, he said nothing and simply placed his other hand over hers.

“Of course I’ve had a wonderful time,” she replied. “That is, until this morning.” She watched him closely but saw nothing to indicate he knew what she was talking about.

“Why? What happened this morning?” he asked, suddenly alert and wondering if something had happened on her walk to the bakery.

“You don’t remember,” she stated simply, leaving him to wonder what had happened, and how it could possibly have involved him.

“Remember?” he said, feeling perplexed as she appeared to grow more agitated. She got up and moved her chair closer to his.

“Jonathan, something happened this morning, and I’m concerned.” She paused before going on. “Do you remember the night we got here, when I asked you about the wine? I asked twice, but you didn’t hear me. When I found you in the living room, it was as though, as though you weren’t there.” She searched his face but again, but could see that he didn’t really understand what she was saying.

“What does that have to do with whatever happened this morning?” he asked. “Where are you going with this?” She saw some concern in his expression now, and wondered if he was keeping anything from her, trying not to worry her, or if he simply didn’t know.

“This morning, I told you I was going to the bakery. But when I got back, you were gone. You went searching for me in your bathrobe, Darling, and had no recollection that I’d told you where I was going. You were…in a, a panic over it.”

“I don’t remember - ”

“I know. I know, because it happened a second time. When you came back from taking your shower, you clearly didn’t remember any of it. Not the first conversation, not searching for me, not the scene when you got back. I’m worried, Jonathan, and I want us to go home.”

He was looking at her skeptically, making her wonder if he believed her, if he’d go along with her request. But he could see that she’d been shaken from the experience, that she was concerned for him even if the reasons weren’t clear to him. And he was at a loss for how to respond. He remembered nothing of the events she’d recounted from that morning but had to believe her, and so he acceded to her request.

Relieved, Jennifer gripped his hands tightly for a second, then rose and leaned over to kiss his forehead before beginning to clear away the dishes. Jonathan went into the bedroom to begin packing, still feeling at a loss from the conversation. Then his slippers, lying on the floor in the bathroom, caught his eye and made him pause. He bent to pick them up. They were dirty and wet, as if he’d been outside in them in the morning dew – which he realized he must have been. Being faced with physical proof of events he couldn’t recall was unsettling. He began to wonder what else might have happened that he didn’t remember. But, as they left their cabin retreat and made their way back to the city, he put a good face on things, convincing himself that it had just been from all of the stress he’d been under lately. Despite whatever had taken place that morning, he was determined to retain the wonderful sense of calm and loving normalcy they’d rediscovered over the weekend.


	4. Chapter 4

_You were holding to me_ _  
__Li_ _k_ _e someone broken_ _  
__And I couldn't tell you but I'm telling you now_ _  
  
__Now it's cold and we're scared_ _  
__And we've both been shaken_ _  
  
__J_ _ust let me hold you while you're falling apart_ _  
__J_ _ust let me hold you and we'll both fall down_ _  
  
__You may need me there_ _  
__To carry all your weight_ _  
__But you're no burden I assure_ _  
  
__F_ _all on me_ _  
__Tell me everything you want me to be_ _  
__Fo_ _re_ _v_ _e_ _r with you, forever in me_ _  
__Ever the same_ _  
  
__Call on me_ _  
__I_ _'ll be there for you and you'll be there for me_ _  
__Fo_ _re_ _v_ _e_ _r it's you, forever in me_ _  
__Ever the same_

_\- Rob Thomas, “Ever the Same”_ _  
_

_  
_*********

The next morning, refreshed and re-energized from their trip, Jonathan returned to work, promising himself and his wife that he’d delegate more to his staff. Although she’d been watching him closely and he appeared fine, Jennifer still felt sure that something was lurking just beneath the surface. She’d been relieved that he hadn’t argued when she wanted to come back early; even if she hadn’t voiced the thought, she’d wanted him home, closer to help if it was needed.

So while wary, Jennifer wanted things to be normal when they got home. As Jonathan returned to work that morning, she tried to turn her mind back to the book she was working on. She sat at her desk and pulled out her notes, planning to review them to refresh her memory, but she couldn’t concentrate. Now that she was alone in the house and had time to really think, her mind kept going back to her husband and the cabin. She set aside her notes and got out her journal instead, and began writing down everything that had happened the day before. The episode had scared and worried her considerably, but she tried to distance herself from her emotions for now and focus on recording the facts. She went on to include every possible detail and impression from the whole weekend, not just Sunday morning, looking for any connections, any possible causes for anything that seemed out of character.

Thinking back over the days leading up to their trip to the cabin, she tried to recall if she’d observed anything odd, or felt uneasy about anything in her husband. He’d been working too hard, considerably more than was usual for him, which she acknowledged was strange in and of itself. Then she remembered the phone call when he’d berated someone from the office. That had definitely been out of character - it just wasn’t his style at all. She also recalled a few times when he’d had blank moments, or seemed overly distracted, and tried to document when they had occurred. He’d also had an inordinate number of headaches lately, she realized.

When she was finished writing and reviewed it all, however, she was at a loss to determine much of a pattern. She couldn’t see any obvious connection, other than stress, perhaps…none of it seemed like enough to explain as dramatic and strange an event as Sunday morning’s. She knew that Jonathan was downplaying the whole episode – but he hadn’t witnessed it, didn’t remember it; she did. And each of the other occasions by themselves weren’t necessarily something to worry about. None of it seemed especially pertinent to his behavior that morning. Was she being overly concerned, trying to connect dots that weren't there?

She also knew, despite the events of the previous day, that Jonathan had certainly benefited from their trip – as had she. She smiled to herself, thinking of how well they had reconnected, of how much they had needed that time away, and she clung to the knowledge that he _did_ recall the shared moments between them – both the quiet and relaxing as well as the passionate. She sighed and set aside the journal, trying to concentrate on her work then, but Jonathan was never far from her thoughts.

As the week progressed and there were no recurrences, she had to admit that he seemed fine, as he insisted he was. She’d wanted him to see a doctor, but reluctantly held her tongue when he seemed determined to maintain his regular habits. He had lightened up at work, to everyone’s relief. He no longer brought work home, he delegated more, he was more his usual, relaxed self. Despite her misgivings Jennifer wanted to believe that everything was okay again, that what had happened on Sunday had been a one-time, inexplicable oddity resulting from the pressure and stress he’d been under. She began to relax more as the days passed without any obvious memory lapses or other strange events, although he continued to have frequent headaches. All the same she kept a more watchful, protective eye on him than was usual, while hoping he wouldn’t notice.

*********

Later in the week as they were sitting down to breakfast, they went over their plans for the day.

“Darling, I’ll be heading in your direction today – how about I drop you at the office?” Jennifer said. With Max gone, they’d taken to driving where they could together, and she was glad whenever she could find a reason to do so.

“That’d be great, Darling. Thanks.”

Getting up and clearing their dishes off the table, Jonathan returned to lean over her chair and whisper in her ear. “With such a beautiful chauffeur, I’d go anywhere. Maybe I’ll just have to call it quits a little early today. What would you say about a late lunch at Chez Hart?” Jonathan said.

Smiling back at him, she replied, “I’d love to, Darling, but I’m going to be a while at my research today and I have a meeting with Margo. Can we make it dinner instead?”

“Okay,” he whispered, looking into her eyes and giving her cheek a kiss. “Give me a moment and I’ll be ready,” he said.

Jennifer nodded, looked after him as he left the room. He seemed so back to his usual self that she had to wonder yet again if it all simply had been an odd, one-time manifestation of stress. Couldn’t there be a reasonable, logical explanation for it? Again she wondered if she should involve their doctor, but whether because he seemed fine – and he insisted that he was - or because she was unconsciously afraid of any answers they might find, or both, Jennifer hesitated to do that. Indecisiveness was unusual for her. She didn’t like not understanding, not knowing what to do, especially regarding something as important as her husband’s well-being. She sighed, trying to put her concerns aside once again, and got ready to go.

*********

Later that day Jennifer pulled into the reserved parking space at Hart Industries and went up to the office. She greeted Deanne, who indicated that she could go on in.

When she entered the office, Jonathan was standing behind the desk, looking out the round picture window. 

“Hi, Darling,” she said, but he didn’t respond, appearing deep in thought. She went up and touched his arm from behind, then slid her own around his waist as she joined him.

“Oh, hi, Darling. I didn’t hear you come in.” He smiled and turned to give her a kiss.

“You looked preoccupied. Everything going okay today?”

“Yeah, actually things are going smoothly.” He seemed a little distracted now and went on quickly to ask about her day. Trying to set aside a niggling sense of dread, she answered him.

“It’s been a little frustrating, actually. My research isn’t getting anywhere at the moment, and Margo isn’t very pleased with me, I’m afraid.” She glanced away out the window as she said it.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure you’ll see your way through it soon, though,” he replied.

“Mhmm,” she said, nodding absently, not wanting to elaborate any further, and, turning back to him, asked, “Are you ready?”

“Just about – I need to make one phone call first, if you don’t mind waiting.”

“Not at all – I’ll just go freshen up.”

“I’ll only be a minute.”

“Okay,” she responded as he picked up the phone. She made her way back out of the office and to the ladies’ room.

Jonathan paused before dialing, watching her as she left, his mind drifting as he considered what a lucky man he was to have such a woman for his wife. Then, snapping out of his reverie, he looked at the phone in his hand and wondered…then, glancing at his watch and seeing the late hour, he put the phone down and grabbed his jacket, eager to get home.

When Jennifer returned a few minutes later, Deanne stopped her, a slightly confused look on her face.

“Ah, Mrs. Hart – Mr. Hart just left. I thought you’d left already - ”

“What?”

“He just got on the elevator – he said he was on his way home.”

“Oh – okay. Thanks, Deanne. We must have gotten our wires crossed,” she said with a smile. “I’ll meet him downstairs.” 

Jennifer turned quickly to go, thinking it strange that he hadn’t waited, but decided she’d meet him at the car. When she got there, the parking space was empty, as she’d half-expected it might be. She felt uneasy, that sense of dread she’d felt at the cabin returning to her. She stood there for a moment longer, thinking that this had to be another episode, another _something_ , happening to her husband. Then she snapped out of it and ran to the street to hail a cab.

*********

When the cab finally pulled up to the door, she was relieved to see their yellow Mercedes parked in front of the house. She couldn’t imagine where she would have looked if it hadn’t been there. She paid the driver and got out of the cab. Just as she reached the front door, Jonathan opened it and met her.

“Jennifer – there you are,” he said, with a relieved look of his own.

“Darling - ” she began, but he’d continued on.

“When I saw the cars were here but you weren’t in the house, I got a bit concerned. I was about to look out back when I heard the car pull up. Where have you been? And why did you take a cab?”

Jennifer had been searching his face. She didn’t see any of the extreme panic he’d demonstrated at the cabin. He seemed calm, and yet he clearly had had another blackout, another loss of memory, maybe of time as well. She thought back to when she’d first arrived at the office – had that been the start of it this time?

“Jonathan, don’t you remember? Do you feel all right?”

“Yeah, Darling - I feel fine, other than a slight headache. Why do you ask? Do I remember what?”

“You’ve had a lot of headaches lately,” she said with a small frown, then went on, “Well, let’s go inside, then we can sit down and talk.”

He looked perplexed, but agreed, and stepped aside so she could precede him into the house. He held the door for her, his hand going to the small of her back as she passed.

As they entered the house, Jonathan began to feel odd, faint….it was a feeling he vaguely recognized, as if he’d experienced it before, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Then, suddenly, it felt as though the floor had lurched under his feet, and he stumbled as a searing pain coursed through his head. The room continued to lurch and he tried to keep his balance, but he fell to the ground, unaware then of anything but the pain, unaware that in his flailing his hand had hit something.

Jennifer had stopped to set her purse and briefcase down on the table by the door, then turned to follow Jonathan into the living room. She saw him stumble and moved toward him, reaching for his arm to steady him. He was struggling to keep his balance, and an image of him stumbling on the trail sprang into her mind. Suddenly, he was going down, and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to catch him, to stop it from happening, although she tried.

It all happened so quickly that she wasn’t prepared when the back of his hand, and his pinky ring, suddenly hit her cheek. She lost her own balance and fell backward onto the floor. More concerned about her husband than herself, she looked over at him from the floor and was sure her heart skipped a beat. She scrambled to get to him. He was lying on his side in a fetal position, his hands clutching either side of his head. His face was contorted with pain and every muscle in his body appeared tense, rigid.

“Jonathan!”

He didn’t respond. When she got to his side, she paused, hovering, evaluating the situation and what was happening to him. She reached out gingerly to touch his shoulder. He flinched, then his grip on his head seemed to ease, so she continued to caress his arm gently. A tremor passed through his body. He moaned, his arms dropped and his body went slack as he lost consciousness.

“Jonathan!” she cried, more urgently, her grip on his arm tightening. She knew she couldn’t, and shouldn’t, move him. She looked around, not wanting to leave his side, and reached for a pillow from the couch, carefully placing it under his head. He was breathing shallowly, and she could tell that his pulse was racing.

She hesitated, then ran quickly for the phone from the writing table, pulling it back over to where she could be in sight of him. He moaned and she stopped dialing. But he didn’t move again, remaining slumped over, and she quickly dialed their doctor’s number. When she got his answering service she hung up, too desperate to wait, and dialed Susan Kendall’s number instead.

“Hello?”

“Susan? It’s Jennifer.”

“Jennifer! Is everything okay?” She could hear something in her friend’s voice – she sounded frantic. 

“No – something’s wrong with Jonathan. His doctor is out and - ”

“Take a deep breath.” Susan waited until she heard Jennifer comply. “Now, tell me.”

“He stumbled and fell. He seemed to be in a lot of pain, and was clutching his head. Then he passed out.”

“Is he still unconscious? How long has it been?”

“Yes, it’s just been a few minutes now.”

“Is he breathing okay?”

“Yes…it’s shallow, but he’s breathing.” Jennifer heard him moan again. “Wait – I think he’s coming around. Hold on.” She stopped pacing beside him and knelt at his side again, stretching the phone cord as far as it would go then setting the receiver on the floor.

“Jonathan?” She helped him roll onto his back, easing his head to the pillow. He tried to sit up but stopped, a frown of pain crossing his face. The room was spinning and he closed his eyes again.

“Lie still.” He heard a fear and urgency in her voice that made him comply instantly. She reached to loosen his tie and unbutton his collar, her hand then going to his chest, where she could feel the pounding of his heart under her fingertips.

“What happened?” he asked.

“Don’t you remember?”

He just shook his head, then winced at the pain in his head and remained still, his eyes closed.

“Jennifer!” she heard Susan’s voice through the receiver and picked it up to answer her.

“He’s awake, but…will you come?”

Susan had been about to have her call the emergency squad and meet them at the hospital, but she considered it, and, guided by some instinct, she made a split-second decision. “I’ll be right over. Give me ten minutes.”

“Thanks, Susan.” She hung up and turned her full attention back to her husband.

“Darling, how do you feel?” 

“Like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck.” It came out as a hoarse whisper. His face was pale, and she could see the pain in his eyes, still feel the tension in his body.

“Do you think you can move?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Then just stay where you are. I’ll be right back.” She was gone several seconds, returning with a cold washcloth for his head. She covered his eyes and forehead with it then held his hand tightly in one of hers. With the other, she ran her fingers lightly along the edges of his hair. Though she was barely touching him, he found it very soothing and felt his muscles begin to relax.

He remained there on the floor, his eyes closed, grateful for the coolness of the damp washcloth, the calming touch of her hands. He’d never felt such lethargy before, such a lack of energy. His arms and legs felt heavy and his head was aching abominably. But the hardwood floor beneath him was reassuringly solid and unmoving again. He tried to think about how he’d gotten there.

After a few minutes he reached up to remove the washcloth and opened his eyes. His headache hadn’t eased much, but the world was no longer spinning so badly. He saw Jennifer leaning over him, her eyes filled with worry. It was clear that he’d passed out, most likely from this killer headache. He didn’t want to think of any other possibilities, didn’t want to think that it could be related to the episode she’d told him of at the cabin.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice still strained with pain and fatigue.

Instead of answering, she peered at him intently, then asked, “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I was at the office.” He paused, trying to recall how he’d gotten home, and had to admit that he had no idea. “That’s it, before waking up here.”

“How do you feel?”

“I have a pretty incredible headache, and I’m really tired. How did I get here? I guess I passed out?”

“Yes, you did…we were coming into the house, and you had a dizzy spell, or something…”

Just then the gate buzzer rang, and Jennifer said, “Just stay there, Jonathan, while I buzz Susan in.”

“Susan?”

“Yes, I called her when you collapsed,” she said as she rose to open the gate for their friend.

“Ahh, Darling, was that necessary?” But he knew even as he said it that it must have been. Jennifer wasn’t one to overreact.

“Yes, it was, actually – and Dr. Tobias wasn’t available.” She made sure the front door was open and went back to him, looking into his eyes and caressing his cheek with the back of her fingers. He could still see the worry in her eyes as she spoke again. “We’re going to get to the bottom of this, Darling, and I think we’re going to need some help.” She went on almost as if to herself, “And somehow I think it’ll be better to get it from Susan.” Hearing a knock at the door, she called for Susan to come in.

Approaching them and kneeling at Jonathan’s other side, Susan glanced at Jennifer as she said, “Well, now, Jonathan, what’s going on with you?”

“I’m sure I don’t know. I passed out, I guess; I don’t recall any of it. I just woke up here on the floor.”

“Jennifer said you seemed to be in quite a lot of pain when you collapsed. How are you feeling now?”

“My head hurts pretty bad – and I’m pretty tired.”

“I see. Well, let’s have a look.”

Susan spent a minute or two examining him, checking his pupils, his pulse and blood pressure. Then she asked if he was able to get up.

“Yeah, I’d like to. This floor is getting hard.”

“Okay, let’s see if we can get you to the couch. I’m sure it’ll be much more comfortable.”

She and Jennifer each took an arm and helped him stand up. They could see that he was uneasy on his feet and got him quickly to the couch, where he leaned back against the armrest with a pillow behind his head and back.

“I’ll give you something for the headache, and something to help you rest tonight as well. Your pulse is a bit fast and your blood pressure is fairly high. Is that normal for you?” She began to look in her medical bag for what she needed.

“No, it’s usually pretty near average.” Jennifer answered for him, as she squeezed his hand. Then she rose to get him some water. 

After finding the medication she wanted and handing it to him, Susan said, “This is for the headache.” Then she went on, asking, “Jonathan, has this happened before?”

“No – at least, I don’t think so,” he answered simply, as Jennifer re-entered the room. She paused, then moved around the couch to sit beside him, handing him the water and taking his hand in hers again as he took the pills.

“Actually, it has.” As Susan looked at her and Jonathan’s eyebrows went up in surprise, she amended her statement quickly. “Well, nothing quite like this, but there have been a few incidents - at least one anyway…” her voice trailed off as she saw Susan’s frown of concern, quickly masked, and she was uncertain now just how to explain.

Susan had to urge her to go on. “Jennifer, why don’t you start by filling me in on exactly what happened tonight, since our patient here isn’t sure.”

Jennifer looked from Jonathan to Susan, then told them of the day’s events, starting with him leaving her at the office, up until Susan arrived.

“Well, now, that is interesting,” Susan said calmly. “And Jonathan, you don’t remember any of that? Jennifer arriving in the office, or your drive home? Greeting her at the door?”

He just shook his head slightly, once again shocked at what Jennifer had relayed. How could he have blanked out for that much time, and not remembered? He didn’t like the idea that there could be more gaps in time that he didn’t recall, when he hadn’t been aware of what he was doing. He’d just about convinced himself that the events at the cabin hadn’t really happened, despite what he knew from Jennifer to be true.

“Okay,” Susan said, clearly thinking it through. She turned to Jennifer. “You think there’s more going on. I need to hear about all of it so I can get a complete picture. Tell me everything that’s happened before today. How many of these incidents have there been? When did they happen, and how severe were they?”

Jennifer began to look and feel even more alarmed than she had so far. But she answered, holding Jonathan’s hand tightly, partly in an effort to reassure him but also to keep her own from shaking. She took a deep breath.

“There hasn’t been anything like today. It’s been more of an accumulation of little things over time, until Sunday morning at the cabin. That morning concerned me but it was nothing like this.”

“What happened Sunday morning?” Susan prompted, looking intently now at Jennifer.

“Well, he didn’t collapse in pain and lose consciousness, but I think – no, I know – he lost some time, just like today when he left the office. He seemed to have lost most of that morning, actually. I’ve been thinking about it, and, well…” She paused, her fingertips going to her temples as she tried to organize her thoughts, then she looked to her husband again and said, “Jonathan, you were unusually stressed in the weeks before we went to the cabin.”

“Yes, I was,” he acknowledged.

“Well, I can’t find a pattern with any rhyme or reason to it…but I think that whatever is wrong may have started a while ago.”

She turned to Susan then as she explained, glancing at Jonathan from time to time. “He’s been very stressed - _too_ stressed. He was too involved at work, in ways he never has been in the time I’ve known him. He was working too hard, and he brought it home with him, something he rarely if ever does. He delegated less. He…berated employees harshly, unnecessarily – it might not seem like much, and I suppose most people wouldn’t have been alarmed or perhaps even have taken notice. But it was all completely out of character for him.”

She swallowed, then went on, this time looking at him, “You…well, you weren’t _yourself_. And we weren’t connecting the way we usually do. Whatever was going on was affecting us too much, and I noticed. I was concerned but I didn’t think it was anything that a weekend getaway couldn’t fix.”

While he didn’t remember the incident she’d described at the cabin, Jonathan understood all the same…looking back over the last several weeks, he had to agree with her assessment. And, like her, once he’d realized it, he too had looked forward to taking a break with her, sure it would be enough. He thought it had been.

Susan also understood what Jennifer was saying. Knowing Jonathan, she agreed that the incidents she described were not typical behavior for him. And the Harts were well-known for their continuing love affair and for not letting other aspects of life interfere with it. They were clearly, obviously, devoted to each other. What might be normal for other couples would not be so for them, and she could understand why Jennifer had grown concerned.

Jennifer had continued. “So we went away to the cabin and relaxed, and we were both less stressed. We were back to normal, and we had a wonderful time.” She smiled, looking lovingly at him as she spoke.

“We did, didn’t we?” Jonathan agreed with a smile, perhaps wanting subconsciously to latch onto that answer, to forestall what might come next, what else she’d say that he wouldn’t remember. All he knew for sure about the weekend was that they _had_ reconnected, that their romance had been rekindled, that he’d vowed to make changes afterward - and he had.

“Yes, Darling, it was a beautiful weekend. Until Sunday morning.”

“So you told me,” he said softly, feeling more somber now.

“What happened Sunday morning, Jennifer?” Susan asked again, and Jennifer went on with her explanation.

“I told Jonathan - ” she paused, then went on, “I woke up early and told him that I was going to walk down to the bakery to pick up croissants for breakfast. It’s not a short walk but I felt energized and wanted the fresh air and the exercise – besides, he loves the croissants made there.” Susan could see tension mounting in her friend again as she relayed that morning’s events in a narrative that was somewhat less direct and coherent than her usual style.

“When I got back, he wasn’t there. I figured he’d just gone for a walk, too. But then suddenly he burst into the cabin in a, a kind of heightened state of panic about where I had been.”

Jennifer looked at him now and could tell that Jonathan still remembered nothing of that morning’s events. She turned again to Susan, her words tumbling out more quickly now. “He didn’t remember that I’d told him where I was going. If it had been just that I wouldn’t have thought much of it; he was probably half asleep at the time, anyway. But he’d gone out in his bathrobe searching for me on the trails, had even gone down to the lake, I think, which is rather a long way. I don’t know how long he was out there. And I’ve never seen him in such a state of complete fear and panic. He was barely coherent, really, and it’s just not like him to be like that. And then…” she paused as if for breath. Jonathan was just watching at her now, perhaps realizing clearly for the first time just how unnerved she’d been that day. He could only listen as she went on.

“Then, I got him calmed down, and he went to get cleaned up while I prepared breakfast. When he came back out, it was – for him, it was as though none of it had ever happened. Literally. He didn’t remember any of it. Not talking to me before I left, not my being gone, not finding me missing or panicking about it, not the scene after he got back. It was like he’d just woken up and the whole thing, the whole morning, hadn’t happened at all. It was all just…gone.” Her last words were a whisper as her gaze finally met his again, and each saw their own fear and confusion reflected now in the other’s eyes.

Jonathan was alarmed by her obvious worry for him, and his own sense of unease was increasing. To lose such control twice and not be aware of it wasn’t something he knew how to handle. He couldn’t doubt her word, but he’d felt fine all week, more balanced at work, more intent on what was truly important. Now he doubted that things really were as they seemed. What else had happened this week that he - neither of them - knew about?

He gripped her hand more tightly as she finished speaking. “I’ve been watching you pretty closely since then, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

“I hadn’t - not really. I was intent on spending more time with you again, like usual. And I’ve been glad to have you as my chauffeur,” he said with a slight grin, trying to lighten the atmosphere in the room.

She smiled back at him, in one of those private, silent exchanges that often embarrassed others who witnessed them. She glanced at Susan, who knew them well enough not to be surprised or discomfited, and tried to assess what she was thinking. But she couldn’t tell.

“I’ve been trying to figure things out…to see if it could be a result of the stress you’d been under. I’ve gone back and tried to identify anything lately that seemed out of the ordinary, but I can’t find a pattern. Perhaps none of it is related. At the cabin I had just about reached the conclusion that we should see a doctor, but you’ve been fine since we got home. I haven’t noticed anything strange – no more sleeping at odd times, no staring off into space, unaware of my talking to you, no extreme irritability, no more workaholic tendencies, no memory lapses that I could see. Until today.”

“Until I left you at Hart Industries, drove home without you – and didn’t even know it?”

She was nodding in agreement. “Nor that I’d driven you to work in the first place and you didn’t have a car today. But I never expected that you’d collapse in such obvious pain. There hasn’t been anything like this before.” She looked again to Susan, wanting her to confirm that it hadn’t been a mistake to wait, to have done nothing. And Susan knew she had to reassure both of them that there was much she could do to help them figure it out.

“Jennifer, many of the things you described could have been due to the stress, particularly the irritability and mood swings, the fatigue. As for the rest, what happened at the cabin and particularly tonight, well, there has to be an explanation, a cause, and we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

She turned to Jonathan. “I have a sedative for you to help you sleep tonight – no arguments. I want you to rest. And no work tomorrow. I think we need to run a series of tests. I’ll work on setting them up for you, perhaps over the weekend.” Knowing them as she did, she thought that they’d prefer to keep this quiet.

Jonathan, still feeling overwhelmed, looked uncertain, but Jennifer was nodding, her relief plain on her face. “Thanks, Susan. We’d appreciate it. Just let us know when.”

Susan said, “Of course. Jennifer, I’m glad you called me. And don’t worry, either of you. We’ll figure it out. Now, Jonathan, take this – you need a good night’s rest. And here’s more of the painkiller – if the headache remains bad or comes back, you can take two every six hours. I’ll stop by tomorrow and check on you, let you know what I’ve set up.”

Jonathan nodded and did as instructed, not feeling up to arguing about it.

“Do you want to move upstairs?” Jennifer asked him, “or would you prefer to stay here? I can stay here with you, on the other couch.”

“No, Darling, I’d much rather sleep upstairs.”

“Okay then, let’s get you up there.”

She helped him stand up. He felt a lot more stable than before – the painkillers he’d taken had started doing their job. Jennifer wrapped her arm around his waist, and his went around her shoulders as they walked toward the stairs with Susan close behind.

“Are you okay now, or do you need help?” she asked as they entered the foyer.

“Thanks, but I feel much better, Susan. I think I can make it,” Jonathan said.

Susan reached out to grasp his hand and look into his face, noting that his gaze seemed less strained and that some color had returned to his cheeks. “Okay then. Take care and stay in bed until I check on you tomorrow.” He just nodded again in agreement.

“Susan, thank you so much.” 

Jennifer squeezed her hand and Susan gave her a half-hug, noticing in that moment a mark on Jennifer’s cheek and knowing it would deepen into a bruise by morning. She gave her a questioning glance, but Jennifer just shook her head imperceptibly, silently asking her not to mention it. Susan understood; she could guess how it had happened. So she simply said, “Look after him now, Jennifer.”

“I will.” She grasped Susan’s hand before she could turn away, and mouthed, _“Will you wait?”_

Susan nodded, and turned back to the living room, where she’d left her medical bag. “Don’t hesitate to call me any time if you think you need to.”

“I will, Susan. And thank you for coming… I can’t tell you how much I – we - appreciate it.”

“Well, I love you both, you know that. Now get him upstairs – he’s definitely fading.”

*********

As they entered their bedroom, Jennifer could tell that the drugs were beginning to kick in. She guided Jonathan to the bed and bent to help him with his shoes and socks.

“Do you want your pajamas? I think you’ll be more comfortable.”

He just nodded and she went to get them, then helped him change. He appreciated her caring assistance, feeling increasingly groggy and sleepy as the sedative began to take effect. Once he was settled, reclining against the pillows, she sat down next to him on the edge of the bed. He could still see the worry in her eyes, although it had diminished. He was glad – he could tell whatever had been going on had to be a burden for her. He didn’t like the thought.

“How are you feeling? Is that medication kicking in yet?”

“Yeah, it is. I guess I’m feeling okay. The headache is going away, at least. As for the rest, I hardly know what to think.”

She saw his confusion and uncertainty plainly, now that they were alone together. It had scared her to realize what was happening to him in the last week; how much more difficult must it be for Jonathan, to not remember things he had done, to realize he was not in complete control of his actions, of himself? She knew it wouldn’t sit well with him.

She leaned over and looked deeply into his eyes, her hand moving over his chest in a slow, gentle caress. “Jonathan, it doesn’t matter right now. The only thing that matters is that I love you very much, and we’ll figure this out, okay?”

“Okay,” he whispered, his eyelids getting heavier with each passing moment. “Stay a while? You know I always sleep better with you near me.”

“Well, Darling, I don’t think you’ll have trouble sleeping tonight.” But she was already moving around to the other side of the bed, where she kicked off her shoes and got in beside him. He put his arms around her and closed his eyes, more at ease already because of her presence.

Resting her head against his shoulder brought an ache to her cheek; she hadn’t realized that it was so tender. She turned her head gingerly until she was comfortable, then relaxed into his embrace as he fell asleep. She wanted to get back downstairs to talk privately with Susan, but she stayed nestled by his side, listening anxiously as his breathing got increasingly deeper and more regular, until she was certain he was deeply, even peacefully asleep. Then she carefully extricated herself from his arms, going back downstairs where Susan was waiting.

*********

When Jennifer got downstairs, she realized that she was thirsty, her mouth suddenly quite dry. On her way to the kitchen, she offered a glass of water to Susan. Once there, she got out two glasses and moved to the sink. Then, suddenly, she began to truly feel the enormity of what had happened as the adrenalin that had kept her going seemed to evaporate, and the emotions she’d been holding inside came bubbling up to the surface. In a flash, she was reliving the heart-rending fear she’d felt as she watched her husband collapse in agony right before her eyes. The sensation was alarmingly physical. Her hands began to shake and she found it hard to breathe, tears springing to her eyes. She knew what was happening somehow, but felt powerless to control it this time.

Susan heard the sound of breaking glass and, guessing what might be happening, she hastened to the kitchen. She found Jennifer standing by the sink, gasping for air, her face pale, tears in her eyes. A glass lay broken at her feet and blood was dripping from her fingers; another glass lay unbroken in the sink. She said her friend’s name sharply, relieved when Jennifer looked at her, the glazed look in her eyes lessening slightly. Susan grabbed her hand to assess the damage, and determining it to be relatively slight, she hastily wrapped it in a towel and guided Jennifer to a chair. She made her sit down and bend over, gently commanding her to breathe deeply. Susan rubbed her back soothingly and murmured instructions to her until she began to breathe more deeply, even as she continued to sob. Once certain she was no longer hyperventilating, Susan knelt by the chair and made eye contact with her, continuing to talk to her, all the while holding up her wrapped hand.

“Shhh, Jennifer. It’s all over now. Take another deep breath.”

Jennifer complied, focusing on Susan now as her body began to relax again, calmed by her friend’s words and touch.

“Oh god, Susan!” she whispered. “What’s happening to him? I don’t think I could handle it if - ”

Still hearing a touch of panic in her voice, Susan interrupted her quickly. “Now, Jennifer, let’s not go there right now. You handled everything very well tonight. You did everything right. And what you’re experiencing now is normal.”

“I shouldn’t have waited - ”

“No, Jennifer, you can’t blame yourself. There’s no reason to.” There was still a look of fear and uncertainty in her eyes. “Listen to me. The immediate danger to Jonathan is over. Okay? There are many good things to focus on. He regained consciousness pretty quickly, he was lucid and able to communicate, indicating there was no obvious, outward consequence to his collapse. We’ll figure out what’s going on, I promise.”

As Susan spoke, Jennifer began to lose the panicky feeling and was able to concentrate on her words. She nodded as they sank in, taking another deep breath and feeling extremely tired. “Okay. Okay. Thank you for being here, Susan.”

“Well, I’m very glad I came, for everyone’s sake. Now, let’s get your hand cleaned up. I know you probably wanted to discuss things tonight, but I think you need to rest, too, and be with Jonathan. Any more discussion can wait until tomorrow.”

Jennifer considered arguing with her, wanting to know more of Susan’s medical opinion, but she had to admit she was both mentally and physically exhausted; the idea of sleep was appealing. Susan got up to get her bag, returning to clean and bandage her hand. She also found a broom and swept up the shards of glass on the floor.

“Do you want something to help you sleep?”

Jennifer shook her head. “No, I want to be alert, just in case…”

Susan nodded in understanding; it was what she’d expected to hear.

“Go on up to bed now. I’ll see myself out. Max isn’t here, I take it? Do you want me to set the alarm?” She’d house-sat a number of times for the Harts - sometimes a break from her husband was appreciated - and was familiar with the routine. Jennifer nodded and gave her the code. Susan gave her a hug, then sent her upstairs. Jennifer went, suddenly barely able to keep her eyes open, and grateful to simply get into bed.

Once under the covers, she snuggled as close as she could get to Jonathan, resting her head on his chest and listening to the reassuringly regular, and slower, beating of his heart. Despite being deeply asleep he wrapped an arm around her, tilting his head to rest against hers, as so often happened on more normal nights; she took great comfort in it. Taking several more deep breaths, she continued listening to the soothing sound of his heart beating, to his now-steady breathing, and was finally lulled to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

_Now, I need to tell you this_ _  
__There’s no other love like your love_ _  
__And I, as long as I live,_ _  
__I_ _’ll give you all the joy_ _  
__M_ _y heart and soul can give_

 _  
__L_ _e_ _t me hold you_ _  
__I need to have you near me_   
_And I feel with you in my arms_ _  
__This love will last, forever…_

_\- Lionel Ritchie, “Truly”_

*********

Despite readily falling asleep once she was next to Jonathan again, in the end Jennifer had not slept well. She was sensitive to any movement he made, and woke from troubled dreams more than once.

Finally the morning dawned and, unable to go back to sleep or to stop the night’s events from turning over and over in her mind, she gave up. She retrieved her journal from the writing table, returning to bed with it and her pen. Like she had earlier in the week, she began to record the details of what had befallen Jonathan the evening before. She did that diligently, but this time she was also compelled to record her thoughts and emotions as well, allowing herself, on paper, to express her worries and fears about his health and about what the future held, if something was seriously wrong. The act of writing helped ease her mind and, she hoped, put things into proper perspective. They’d have to wait for Susan’s medical opinion to be certain, and she was trying not to jump to any conclusions prematurely, but the fears were there, and she knew she had to face them so she’d be prepared for whatever followed.

She’d finished writing and was simply sitting there, thinking, when at last Jonathan began to stir beside her. She set aside the journal and slid back down to lay facing him, watching him gradually awaken.

As always happened when she had an opportunity to just look at him, unobserved, Jennifer could feel her love for him filling her senses, surrounding her, to an extent that she had never dreamed possible, before him. She had always been a strong-willed, confident, independent person, thanks to her mother first and then later her father, and while she had longed for love, she’d always suspected that her standards were perhaps set a trifle high. Certainly no one had ever come close to meeting them, and consequently she’d often been seen as aloof and hard to please. She’d just always known before any relationship got very far that it wasn’t going to work out in the long run. Then she’d met Jonathan Hart, and from the very first moment she’d known he was the one her heart had been searching for. She’d fallen for him quickly, and hard, and had never once looked back or ever again imagined her life without him. That he’d fallen equally hard for her was a fact that made her heart rejoice daily. Now, even with everything that was happening, still she could not envision any life but the one she had, always with him by her side.

Jonathan awoke, gradually sensing the sunlight in the room and, he suspected, the feel of his wife’s gaze on his face. He turned his head and opened his eyes to find her looking at him from where she lay beside him. He smiled at her as he was struck again, as always, by the love in her eyes as she watched him. This morning, however, she also looked tired, as if she hadn’t slept well, and there was a seriousness in her expression that took a moment to figure out. Then the events of the night before came back to him, as did tellings of other, prior events he had no recollection of. It was a sobering, unsettling thought and his smile faded.

“Good morning, Darling. How are you feeling?” she asked.

He considered it. “Well, I feel pretty good, I guess. Rested. No headache this morning.”

“I’m glad. You had me pretty worried last night,” she said.

He could see the truth of it in her eyes, and had to admit that she had cause. He’d felt like hell.

But before he could comment, she went on. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. Neither of us had any dinner last night. How about I whip up something for breakfast?”

“That’d be great, Darling.”

“Okay then. You stay put - doctor’s orders, remember – and I’ll be right back.” She leaned over to give him a kiss then got up, putting on her robe as she left.

When she returned carrying a tray laden with breakfast, he was lying back in bed, thinking. Jennifer caught the rather pensive look on his face as she entered the room, before he smiled and said, “That smells great.”

She handed the tray to him and got back into bed. “Well I hope you’re okay with orange juice or tea – I thought perhaps we should avoid caffeine….” Her voice trailed off. He just nodded and drank some juice.

“Everything’s delicious. And you’re wonderful.”

She just smiled, her eyes telling him that she would always be there to take care of him. After taking a bite of her eggs, she said, “I called the office and had Deanne clear your schedule for the day. So you’re free to be pampered until Monday.” She didn’t mention the tests that she anticipated him having over the weekend, although they were both thinking about it – Jennifer, perhaps, with a heavier heart.

As they finished eating, Jonathan took the tray and set it on the floor. He turned to face her, and she did the same. He reached up to lightly brush his fingers along her bruised cheek, which was beginning to darken.

“Did I do this?” he asked softly, somehow knowing he had, and wishing she could tell him he hadn’t.

“Of course not, Darling…not really – not consciously. You were falling and as I tried to help you I just, got in the way.” She smiled reassuringly and rubbed his arm.

“I’m so sorry I hurt you.”

“Darling, it’s nothing. Really. It wasn’t your fault.”

“Well - ” he started to say.

“Shhh.” She leaned toward him and quieted his words with a kiss, her hand going to his face.

Jonathan ran his hands up her arms, then, sitting back against his pillow, he pulled her to him and held her close. She hugged him back, wanting to reassure him, and whispered his name.

He pulled back enough to look into her eyes and said, “Jennifer, I’m sorry you’ve been dealing with this alone. It can’t have been easy. I don’t want to be a burden - ”

She placed her fingers to his lips, her look reproving now. “Jonathan. You could _never_ be a burden to me – not ever.” She looked steadily into his eyes, wanting to be sure he wouldn’t persist in that line of thought, knowing how unaccustomed he was to feeling weak or out of control.

Not understanding what was happening to him was unsettling, and Jonathan tried to will away those feelings, the newfound sense of something suddenly, indefinably wrong. As he looked into her eyes, and despite his awareness of how concerned she’d been and must still be, he saw only loving strength and confidence. It was reassuring, and he was grateful to know that he could count on her presence no matter what came. Looking into her eyes, he felt better – and more in love with her than ever.

He hugged her close again, understanding how much he truly needed her. She returned his embrace, offering him all the solace, strength and love she could, so they could deal with whatever was happening…and so he could go on being _her_ source of strength. As much as he needed her now, she also counted on and needed him.

“Jennifer,” he said, putting all of the love in his heart into the husky whispering of her name in her ear, as his hands moved caressingly up her back until his fingers could play lightly in her hair. Turning, he kissed her hair, then brushed it aside so his lips could seek her neck, then her cheek, her mouth. He kissed her softly at first, to let her know that he was all right; then his kiss became more intentional, more purposeful, as he showed her the full range of his emotions. Desire then quickly overrode everything else he felt, and was emphatically expressed in the touch of his lips on hers.

Jennifer responded, her head swirling. Her chest had been so tight with heartache and fear for him, but now his touch distracted her and filled her, too, with desire. She welcomed it, with a desperate need for things to be normal, to forget that perhaps they weren’t.

Nevertheless, even as his fingers gathered her gown at her waist then found their way under it to her skin, a rational thought crept into her mind, making her pause despite the fiery sensations spreading rapidly throughout her body. With difficulty, she pulled back, stopping her hands which were already roaming over his body, just as his were over her own.

“Jonathan…”

“Jennifer,” he whispered softly again, his voice filled with desire.

“You’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

“I will,” he murmured in her ear, then stopped her words with another kiss that took her breath away. She could not resist him, and she didn’t really want to. Perhaps it was unwise, but her own need and desire for him was taking over quite forcefully. That, and the fear that he could somehow be taken from her, that the future was unknown, uncertain, lent a sense of urgency to the moment and ended her objections, wise or not.

But she broke the kiss, putting her hands on his shoulders to stop him from moving to press her down to the bed, even as she whispered his name again. 

“Jennifer…” he thought perhaps she was overreacting, that she was stopping him, and a teasing plea began to form on his lips even as he tried to kiss her neck again, knowing full well the effect it would have on her. But her hands on his chest kept him from his target and he had to stop and look into her eyes, where he was surprised and pleased to see a sultry mischief that told him quite clearly that, contrary to his expectation, she had no intention of applying the brakes.

“Jonathan, allow me,” she whispered, then she kissed him, her former hesitation gone. He smiled as she pushed him slowly over onto his back; she moved to straddle him, leaning over as she did to whisper in his ear.

“Darling, touch all you want, but please, leave the work to me.” Her low, purring tone was light and teasing, and quite suggestive; his smile broadened at her approach, supposing that her intent was to keep him from overexerting himself…never mind that the sound of her voice, her words, and, as always, the sight and feel of her beautiful body caused his pulse to race dangerously fast.

Glancing at him, she saw the spark of interest in his eyes even as they closed in acceptance of her terms. Her fingers danced through his hair and along his face as she kissed him again. She moved to kiss his neck and felt the racing of his pulse under her lips, which curved then into a smile. Her fingers then preceded her lips in a quest for his chest, deftly unbuttoning his pajamas, pushing them open, allowing her hands and lips to caress him, blazing a trail of fiery sensation wherever they went.

Suddenly he felt her hands and lips leave his body, and opened his eyes to see her sitting up above him. His hands had continued their way under her gown, caressing the soft, smooth skin of her legs and buttocks and settled on her thighs as she reached for the hem of her short gown, drawing it over her head in one fluid motion. He drank in the beauty of her perfect body above him and, running his hands up her thighs to her waist, he drew her closer to him again where he could continue to explore what had been out of reach moments before. She allowed it, luxuriating in the touch of his hands, so loving, on her body, then moved to free him from his pajamas. She leaned over him again. The sensation of his skin against her breasts, of his lips and tongue against hers as she kissed him again, heightened her passion and her need to connect with him, body and soul. She moved to do so, and he again accepted her initiative, soaring easily to meet her in an intensely fulfilling moment of loving normality between them.

Their emotional and physical connection greatly bolstered Jennifer’s spirits and even her confidence in the future, and afterward she found herself feeling more relaxed and drowsy than she had been all night. Soon she drifted off to a true sleep against his chest. Jonathan simply drew the covers up and wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the pleasant feel of her body resting against his.

Jonathan stayed still, glad she was able to get some sleep; as usual he drew great comfort from her presence against him. For all of her apparent confidence this morning, he understood that it had been largely for his benefit. He had recognized and been more unsettled by her barely contained worry the night before than by anything else, even the pain he’d experienced. She wasn’t an easily perturbed woman and for her to have trouble expressing herself, to exhibit such heightened worry made him realize that there was cause for real concern. Well, he’d reserve further judgment until they had some test results, but he’d take it easy, follow Susan’s orders. With the unknown, unpredictable nature of his illness, whatever it was, Jonathan understood why Jennifer had said calling on Susan was preferable. Until they understood what was happening, he’d just as soon keep it all under wraps, too. Meanwhile, he’d do what he could to ease Jennifer’s mind. For now he let her sleep, content as always just to have her in his arms.


	6. Chapter 6

_I just want you close_ _  
__W_ _here you can stay forever_ _  
__You can be sure_ _  
__That it will only get better_

 _  
_ _W_ _hen the rain is pouring down_ _  
__And my heart is hurting_ _  
__You will always be around_ _  
__This I know for certain_ _  
  
_

_You and me together_ _  
__Through the days and nights_  
 _I don’t worry ’cause_ _  
__Everything’s gonna be all right_

_\- Alicia Keys, “No One”_

*********

In the days that followed Jonathan’s weekend tests, he worked less, stayed home more, and tried to keep closer track of his activities and of time itself. Preliminary results looked good, but because Susan wasn’t a neurologist she wanted to get a consultation, anonymously, from a colleague and friend. In the meantime, they could rest assured there was no tumor or other obvious brain injury or abnormality.

Jonathan himself was increasingly uneasy, and doubtful that everything was all right. He was fairly certain he was experiencing more black outs, although he couldn’t usually say of what duration. He took to writing down notes about his activities and decisions made in the office - a journal of how he spent his time, as well as his thoughts and emotions. It was a new activity for him, but he could see now why Jennifer found it a helpful exercise. He’d also begun to wonder how to handle things if his condition continued to worsen. Would he even realize they were worse? How? He knew he was missing time, that things were happening that he didn’t remember later. More and more often, he relied on Deanne and Marcus’s assistance, while feeling optimistic that they remained unaware of the need. He also used his journal as a reminder, just so he could keep up.

As they waited for more detailed test results, Jonathan told Jennifer nothing of the notes he was keeping, of his growing suspicion of and fear about his worsening condition. He felt she had enough stress of her own, and knew that she was being much more watchful, that she noticed when he had minor lapses. But there had been no more extreme incidents like before, and his headaches were kept in check by the medication Susan had prescribed.

Jonathan wanted to make every effort to keep Jennifer’s worry to a minimum. He also felt an ever-increasing need for her company. He needed her near: her presence, her touch, the way she looked at him with such love in her eyes. So he did what work was necessary and otherwise spent time with his wife, going for walks, playing gin, taking dips in the pool, horseback riding – any of the many activities they liked to share and hadn’t done enough of lately. If she wondered about the increase in play time together, she said nothing, and he was sure she felt as he did, even if neither voiced it. It was important not to waste a single moment.

Jennifer was ever on the look-out for another episode; she suspected he was still having black outs, even when she wasn’t certain and he wouldn’t say. Her nerves were increasingly frayed from not knowing when, or even if, to expect another attack. At the same time, however, she thought she was masking her concerns well, and was encouraged that the tests showed no obvious problems. But it all made her glad that he was sticking a bit closer to home and to her, and she was determined to enjoy the variety of activities he came up with to do together.

*********

He’d been watching Jonathan Hart for some time now, as much as he was able to, and he grew more and more frustrated each day at the lack of evidence that his plan was working. Unfortunately, he was somewhat limited by time and opportunity; he couldn’t risk his presence looking suspicious. With a lack of any clear signs, he was afraid that his plan would all be for naught and he’d have to go back to the drawing board.

Finally, though, he began to hear rumors about unusual behavior from the boss at Hart Industries. People were feeling edgy and uncertain around him. He gathered that this wasn’t normal, and sneered at the thought that these people had been so snowed by Hart. There was simply no way the man was as perfect as everyone seemed to believe. Yes, this seemed like a potentially significant step forward in his plan. Now he only needed to be patient, and remind himself that the man would be out of the picture for good soon enough.

*********

Jennifer sat up and threw her legs over the edge of the bed, ready to get up. She was unprepared for the dull ache that accompanied her movement, and paused with a slight intake of breath before she could stop herself. Jonathan looked over at her, concerned.

“What’s the matter, Darling?”

“Oh, I don’t know…too long a ride the other day, I suppose,” she said as she stretched, hoping he wouldn’t pursue it.

But Jonathan knew better; they were both excellent riders, and could spend hours in the saddle and not be sore the next day. He frowned. “Come on. Riding never makes you achy. What is it?”

“You don’t - ?” but she stopped, closing her eyes, unable to ask the question again, feeling as if she asked it too often these days.

“Don’t what - remember?” he asked softly.

Still sitting on the edge of the bed, she nodded, glad she was facing away from him, sure her unease would show in her eyes.

Jennifer’s thoughts went back to the day before. Jonathan had gone to the office, and she’d been able to focus on her book. Then he’d come home early; wrapped up in her work for the first time in a while, she hadn’t realized right away that he was home. He’d interrupted her - not that she minded, but usually he could tell when she was deep in her work, and respected her preoccupation when the words were flowing well. But this time, he hadn’t. He’d found her at her desk and had leaned over to nuzzle her neck as he greeted her. He’d drawn her out of her chair as she laughed in protest, unable, as usual, to resist him, and her mind had quickly turned from her work. He’d been intent on his mission – more serious than playful, more rushed than leisurely.

She smiled, reflecting on the often diverse variety of their sex life. From the first it had been…adventurous, passionate, playful, sometimes tumultuous, but always loving; they were beautifully matched in that department as in the rest of their life together, something for which she was eternally grateful. But this time it had been somehow different. Not unpleasant, ultimately, just…different. The fact that their encounter had been perhaps more intense than usual wasn’t what upset her. It was something else she hadn’t been prepared for: the sudden awareness, during their lovemaking, that he seemed somehow detached, as if he wasn’t really there with her. She’d caught the vague, almost glazed look in his eye that she had come to associate with lost time, with times when he perhaps wasn’t aware of what was happening. When he wasn’t truly himself. That was the part that had worried her the most.

Jonathan moved across the bed, reaching for her and turning her to face him. He couldn’t quite interpret what he saw in her eyes, and was sure he wouldn’t like it, but he had to ask.

“Jennifer? What happened? Tell me.”

“Jonathan, it’s okay, it’s nothing - ” But she looked down, not meeting his eyes, and fear crept into his heart.

“It’s not – you’re in pain. Did I…?”

“No, I’m not, really – Jonathan, look, it’s nothing. I’m fine!” she interrupted, her eyes asking him to let it go. But he couldn’t.

“You’re not.” Suddenly he was filled with doubt…she never kept anything from him. Why would she be evasive now? What had happened last night? He vaguely recalled finding her in the study the night before and greeting her amorously, unable to resist her despite the fact that she’d been working so intently she hadn’t heard him come in. But he didn’t remember anything else. What had happened next? He didn’t know, and he grew alarmed as a sudden, scary, overwhelming thought made him pause. He peered more closely at her, at the fading bruise on her cheek, and then his chest tightened as a chill swept over him, making the world seem hazy and unclear. He didn’t want to believe it. He just couldn’t…but the idea grew rapidly in his mind, until escaping it seemed impossible, and he _had_ to know.

Focusing on her again, he asked, “Darling, where are you hurt?” He lifted her chin until she raised her eyes to meet his, but found he couldn’t tell, couldn’t see anything in her gaze, as if she had put her best poker face carefully in place. It was something else he wasn’t used to seeing.

“I told you, Jonathan – I’m _not_ hurt. I’m just a little achy – that’s all. It’s nothing,” she said again, willing him to believe her.

But Jonathan’s mind was reeling now. Had he really hurt her again, this time while, while making love? Had he - could he - have taken her against her will? He couldn’t bear the idea and the thought of it sent a wave of fear and panic crashing over him. The idea that he could be responsible for causing any harm to her scared him deeply. He sat back, rubbing his hands over his face and perhaps for the first time not wanting to meet her eyes, not wanting to risk seeing confirmation in them, no matter what she said. But he needed to know what had happened – and what was happening to him.

As if reading his mind, she grasped his hands, knowing he had jumped to some awful, illogical conclusion, and that she had to reassure him quickly.

“Jonathan.” 

This time she waited for him to meet her eyes, knowing he couldn’t resist doing so. When he finally did look at her, she saw anguish in his eyes. She said again, “Jonathan, Darling, _I’m fine_ , so don’t think for one moment that you’ve done anything wrong, because you haven’t – you couldn’t.” She held his gaze, not letting go, and raised a hand to caress his cheek, trying to reassure him.

He closed his eyes at her loving touch, somewhat relieved by her words, but his head was still swimming with panic at the thought of causing her harm. He could not allow it to happen again, could not allow himself to ever become a real danger to her. He would not. He reached up to her face, his finger gently tracing the fading bruise on her cheek.

“Jonathan, I love you,” she said again. “Don’t ever forget that. You don’t have it in you to - ”

“But I did. Twice, apparently.”

She was shaking her head. “No – it was an accident - ”

“An accident? I can’t let it go at that.” He was filled with anguish, uncertain what was happening to him, but somehow sure he had done these things. Had anything else happened, that he couldn’t remember? He had to know.

“Jennifer, has anything else happened lately?”

“You’ve been having more black-outs, I think,” was all she would say.

He just nodded; it only confirmed his own suspicions.

“But things have been much better this week. Really. You haven’t had the headaches - ”

“Thanks to Susan’s painkillers. We can’t be certain that anything has changed, that it isn’t simply a matter of time before things get worse.”

“But there was really just that one incident – okay, two. But the tests, with Susan…they didn’t find anything.” She felt she was grasping at straws, but she couldn’t help it. She so wanted to believe there wouldn’t be anything seriously wrong, after all.

“Darling, this is another. We both know it. And as for the rest, the black outs - they haven’t stopped. If anything, they’ve increased. The headaches are only under control, perhaps temporarily.”

He could see tears forming in her eyes as she again shook her head. It wasn’t like Jennifer to exhibit such denial. This latest event was proof enough for him that last week’s episodes hadn’t been isolated ones, and his fear that he would become even more unpredictable, even more of a danger to her increased.

That he could be so unaware of his actions with his wife – to not remember being with her, making love with her, let alone the circumstances under which it had happened...it was inconceivable. He believed that her bruised cheek had been an accident. But this? How could it be called an accident? What could possibly have been the motivation behind his actions, and how could he be so unaware of them? When he had a black out, what happened to him - to his mind? It seemed as if he became another person, a Mr. Hyde…did he become an animal, to be so motivated solely by his own desires, his own needs, to not put her first, as he always had? Jonathan had been taught to honor women, and he honored and revered his wife above and beyond all others. He didn’t know how he had behaved the night before, but the mere thought that he could have put himself and his own physical needs ahead of hers, and perhaps to have compelled her to fulfill them, upset him tremendously.

“Jennifer.” He took her hands in his and silently begged her to look at him. When she did, he went on. “Please, Darling. I’m sorry, but I, I just don’t remember much from last night. Did we make love? Please, you have to tell me what happened. I have to know.”

“Jonathan - ”

“Jennifer, please.”

“Darling, there’s nothing to tell, really. Despite being a little achy, it wasn’t a big deal. _You didn’t hurt me, and nothing bad happened –_ it could never be so between us.” She looked earnestly into his eyes as she spoke, still trying to convince him that there hadn’t been anything unusual or untoward about it, wanting him to see her belief in that fact. But she could see that he wasn’t accepting her protests, wasn’t letting it go.

“No - I hurt you, intentionally or not. I can’t understand what could have motivated – I need to know if I was – if I - ”

“If you were yourself?” she asked softly then, understanding his question.

He just nodded, his eyes now not leaving hers.

“That’s…that’s a hard question to answer.”

“I know. Please, Jennifer. I don’t know what’s happening to me. I need to understand, or at least to try.”

She could hear the determined tone in his voice, the fear, and understood that he had to be sure he wasn’t turning into some kind of monster. So while she hadn’t wanted to elaborate, she realized now that she had to, to ease his mind and his heart.

“Okay.” She nodded and sat back a little, organizing her thoughts. “Before I say another word about it, Jonathan, you have to understand that nothing harmful - to me, at least - took place. Please, you have to believe me on this point.” She waited for him to nod slowly, then went on despite the doubt she still saw in his eyes.

“I don’t know exactly how to describe it. When you came home and…well, in so many ways you were yourself. Your love, your desire, your need for me – it was all you. And yet, at the same time, it began to seem as if those things were somehow beyond your control. It made you unpredictable, I suppose – but that’s not necessarily a bad thing, you know,” she said with a smile, forestalling any comments on that from him before going on. “I believe you were motivated by your own emotions and feelings…” she paused, and he just waited for her to go on, “But at the same time, there was a moment when I looked into your eyes and I could have sworn you weren’t there…” Her voice trailed off and she dropped her eyes, not wanting him to know how distressed she’d actually felt, to know what a drain it had been on her, if not physically, then emotionally.

Jonathan closed his own eyes, no longer wishing to see worry for him in her expression, when she’d been the one injured. It was his job to protect her, to take care of her; he had to be responsible for his actions, to protect her from whatever was happening to him. He was not a man who shirked away from responsibility. He had hurt her - he prayed that she wasn’t keeping anything else from him – and he would have to take steps to prevent any further harm from befalling her, however unintentionally. And he knew that now was the time – now, while he could still make the decision, still take action, and he hoped, find a solution before it was too late.

“Jennifer.” He moved closer, sitting with her on the edge of the bed. “Jennifer, you have to promise me something.”

Something in his voice caused her to look more closely at him. Wary and uncertain where he was headed but somehow knowing she wouldn’t like it, she said nothing, and just waited for him to go on.

He could see her already preparing a protest. Impulsively he pulled her into a close embrace and murmured her name again before releasing her and sitting back to look into her eyes, holding her arms and her attention.

“I need you to promise me that you will never let me hurt you - ”

“Jonathan, we’ve been over this. You couldn’t, you didn’t - ”

“I have,” he insisted. “So we have to assume that I could again. That things could get worse.”

She was shaking her head, feeling a kernel of panic building within her as their lives threatened to spin out of control. He went on in a rush.

“Intent is only part of the equation, my love. When I have these black outs, it doesn’t matter anymore who I am, who Jonathan Hart is. If something snaps in me, and I can’t control it…well, I won’t have it. I can’t! I won’t have you jeopardized by my own actions, and I won’t be a burden - ”

She interrupted him, her eyes flashing now with anger. “Jonathan, I married you for better or worse. Remember? In sickness and in health? You are _not_ a burden to me – you never could be! And I will not let you turn this into some one-sided crusade. We’re in this together – we take care of each other.”

“I’m scared to death of what might happen to you when I’m not myself. Can’t you see that?”

“Yes, Darling, I can. But I can take care of myself in this, Jonathan. And if anything else goes wrong, it’s my job to take care of _you_ , to pull you back, to help you remember who you are. Please, Jonathan. Let’s just…go on for now, okay? At the least, let’s wait to see what Susan’s colleague has to say.”

She stood abruptly, suddenly feeling a need to end the conversation before it got any more out of hand.

He nodded, not completely satisfied but knowing he should back off all the same. “Okay.”

Jonathan just sat there, thinking, as she turned and went into the bathroom. No matter what she said, he knew that he would do whatever it took to be sure no more harm would come to her. He took a deep breath, realizing his decision was already made, and felt some semblance of calm, of control, return to him. At least he knew she’d be all right, no matter what happened to him; he would make sure of that.

When he heard the shower running a few minutes later, he snapped out of it and followed her, wanting to make up with her, to ease her mind. He paused at the shower door and asked, “May I come in?”

His velvety voice was like music to her ears, and she looked at him, relieved and happy that he’d joined her. She wanted only to banish thoughts of their conversation, and of his illness. Without a word, she opened the door and held it as he stepped out of his pajamas and into the warm mist of the shower with her.

Drawing her into his embrace, he relished the feel of her skin against his own as she nestled her body to fit against his. Her eyes were closed, and her tears mingled with the water running down his chest. But their worries, at least for a time, were eased as the warm water ran over them and washed away the tension that had almost come between them.

*********

Jennifer awoke early the next morning to the feel of her husband’s lips on hers and smiled, her eyes still closed. As she opened them, she found his eyes mere inches from hers and marveled anew at the depth of their blue color, as well as the depth of the love she could feel emanating from them.

“Good morning, sweetheart. I trust you had a good night.” His lips were curved into a satisfied smile, as if he knew the answer to that question already. Which, she had to concede, he did. She stretched, saying good morning in reply, still feeling quite drowsy.

“What are you doing up, Darling? Come back to bed.”

“I need to go to the office this morning – I have some things to take care of.”

“Oh? Surely it isn’t anything that can’t wait?” Her eyes asked him to stay with her, with a promise of making it worth his while; it was a request he wished he could fulfill.

“You’ve no idea how tempted I am to stay.” She smiled as he said it, until he went on, “but I’ve been putting this particular project off and I’m afraid it can’t wait any longer.”

Her face showed her disappointment, but she relented. “I suppose I’ve been spoiled this week, with all the time we’ve been spending together.”

“I know – me, too – and I’ve enjoyed every minute of it. I’ll be home as soon as I possibly can, Darling. I promise.” He closed his eyes as he leaned over and kissed her lips again. “I love you so very much.”

“I love you, too,” she said, then went on, “Do you want me to drive you?” “No…I’ll be fine. Go back to sleep, hmm?”

She nodded, her eyes already closing again as he stood and strode to the door, where he turned to gaze at her, as if to memorize one more vision, one more thing about her, before softly closing the door behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hart’s Divine – Part Two**

Chapter Seven

_Night will follow day_ _  
__Sure as the sun and moon_ _  
__Re_ _m_ _e_ _mb_ _e_ _r I will always be with you_ _  
  
_

_W_ _hen you see a darkness coming through…_ _  
__Re_ _m_ _e_ _mb_ _e_ _r to keep warm_ _  
__Take shelter from the storm_ _  
__The night will not last for much more_ _  
__I wrote in a small note put on your winter coat_ _  
__A cold wind will blow through your door_  
  


_\- Bill Ricchini, “A Cold Wind Will Blow Through Your Door”_

*********

Jennifer slept a little while longer after Jonathan left, then rose and got ready for the day. She planned to take advantage of the time to get some work done on her manuscript.

She still felt a little uneasy about him going anywhere alone, but also knew she couldn’t expect him not to carry on with life as usual, while he could; she would certainly want to keep things as normal as possible, if it were her. She knew she wouldn’t want to be hampered, or hovered over. So she worried, and admittedly hovered some, but otherwise tried not to inhibit his actions too much.

Later that day she was sitting at her desk, deep in her work for the first time in a while when the phone rang.

“Hart residence,” she answered.

“Jennifer? It’s Susan.”

“Susan! Hello.”

“I just called to give you and Jonathan an update from Dr. Pierson. Is it a good time to come by?”

“Actually, Jonathan went into the office this morning – I’m not sure when he’ll be getting back.”

“I see.”

“Is there anything you can tell me now, that I can relay to him?”

“Well, yes, although it’d still be a good idea to go over it together.”

“Of course.”

“The good news is that Brian – Dr. Pierson – agreed with my preliminary findings. There’s no tumor, and no other physical, cerebral injuries.”

Jennifer closed her eyes and let out a long, deep breath, aware then that she’d been holding it. “That’s great news, Susan. Thank you.”

Susan heard her friend’s breath, her slightly unsteady voice, and went on calmly. “Yes, it is great news, but there’s more we’d like to check out.”

“Okay – what is it?” Jennifer asked, reminding herself to keep breathing. “We’d just like to draw some more of Jonathan’s blood, to check it again.”

“I didn’t think you’d found anything.”

“Well, that’s true - none of the standard tests we ran were positive for anything. But we’d like to run more, and run a comparison of our first sample as well. But don’t worry, Jennifer. We just want to be sure.”

“Okay. I’ll let him know. Susan, I can’t thank you enough for all you’re doing for us – for Jonathan - ”

As she spoke Jennifer had raised her eyes, taking in the room around her almost unconsciously…that is, until her eye happened to land on the grand piano. Confused, she instinctively stood up and looked quickly over to the end table next to the chair by the bar. She felt the blood draining from her cheeks, and she couldn’t hear Susan speaking. They were gone. The photos – one of her and Jonathan facing each other, from the piano, and the other a portrait of her, his favorite, the one he always took when he traveled alone - when they would be apart for a while.

“No, he couldn’t have – he wouldn’t - ” Suddenly she realized that she was still on the phone, and Susan had a questioning tone in her voice.

“Ah – Susan, thanks for the news, but I’m, ah, I’m late and I really must go. I’ll call later, okay?”

Without waiting for a reply, she hung up, grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

*********

When she arrived at Hart Industries, Jennifer was relieved to see the Rolls in Jonathan’s usual spot. She parked and quickly made her way up to his office. Deanne wasn’t at her desk; she knocked lightly on the door, then went on in, stopping in the open doorway when she saw he wasn’t there.

She was still standing there a moment later when Deanne returned.

“Oh, Mrs. Hart! I didn’t know you’d be by today. How are you?” “Ah, I’m fine, Deanne. Isn’t Mr. Hart here? His car is outside…”

“Well, no, he left just a little while ago. He said he had a couple of meetings, and not to expect him back today.” Deanne thought Mrs. Hart looked flushed, and not quite her usual, composed self.

“I see. I, ah, think I’ll just wait here a little while.”

“Of course, Mrs. Hart,” she said, with a sudden insight that perhaps she needed a moment to herself. “I’ll be just outside if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Deanne,” Jennifer said distractedly, as she walked further into the office, setting her purse down on the couch. Deanne closed the door behind her as she left.

Jennifer went over to the desk and sat down, not knowing what else to do. Perhaps she’d overreacted…perhaps there was another, logical reason the photos had been moved. She paused then, realizing that she hadn’t even stopped to look for them, to see if they’d been moved somewhere else. She smiled to herself, feeling silly now for jumping to some half-baked conclusion. She decided that Jonathan would be on his way home after his meeting, since he apparently wasn’t coming back to the office. She glanced around, and then for the second time that day her eye caught something, on the desk this time, that she didn’t expect to see. She could feel her throat tightening as she reached slowly for the envelope sitting there on the desk before her, with her name on it.

Hesitating, holding the envelope and not really wanting to open it, she reached for the intercom. “Deanne, unless Mr. Hart comes back, can you make sure no one comes in?”

“Yes, of course, Mrs. Hart. Is everything okay - ?”

“Thanks, Deanne. I appreciate it.”

Jennifer just sat there at his desk, turning the envelope over and over in her hands, dreading what it might impart, feeling as if it would burn her fingertips with its hidden words. Finally, her hands shaking, she broke the seal and took out the single sheet of fine stationery, unfolding it and slowly taking in the words written there. The handwriting was unmistakable, although, she noted absently, it didn’t appear as firm as usual - as if his hand, too, had trembled.

_M_ _y Darling Jennifer,_

_I_ _f you’re reading this, you’ve discovered that I’m gone. Please understand that this is the most difficult thing I’ve ever done – I didn’t make this decision lightly. I’m so sorry I couldn’t tell you. I knew you wouldn’t agree with my decision; I couldn’t have withstood your opposition, but I truly feel this is the right thing to do. As misguided as it may seem to you, I hope you can understand that I’m doing this for us, for our future. I want to get well, but in the meantime I cannot allow whatever is happening to me to jeopardize you - to hurt you - again. Please, please understand - my sole purpose is to protect you. I couldn’t live with myself knowing I had been the cause of any more harm, any real harm, to you, and I cannot trust any longer that I won’t be. I want to return to you healthy, in my right mind, in control again of my own actions. And therefore no longer a threat to you._

An angry sob burst out of her, at the mere thought of it. How could he think it. She knew it was impossible. And she could handle herself - and him – when did he forget that? Had he ever known it? But she pushed those thoughts aside and focused on finishing his letter.

_I know how difficult this will be for you – perhaps more so than you realize. I trust you to handle things while I’m gone. Jennifer, my love, I’ll be home as soon as I possibly can. But no matter what happens, please know that you are my whole world, my everything, and my life cannot possibly be complete without you._

_Yours always and forever,_

_Jonathan_

“Nor mine without you,” she whispered, tears coming to her eyes as she crumpled the note in her fist and rested her head against it. She felt an extreme range of emotions – worry, fear, disbelief, heartache, anger. She couldn’t believe that he hadn’t trusted her to take care of him as well as herself, and worried that he was out there, somewhere, on his own, when he was, of his own admission, not thinking so clearly.

How could he not see that he needed her? Then it occurred to her that perhaps he wasn’t capable right now of making a rational decision. But he could, and had, made an emotional one. With her best interests in mind, she knew – but not his own. It was so like him, she had to admit, and a part of her appreciated and loved him for it even through her anger and frustration that he would take such a step without first discussing it with her. But most of all, the thought of him being out there alone, having a black-out, another painful collapse or panic attack, chilled her and only served to increase her worry for him.

She smoothed out the paper and reread his letter several more times, all the while considering what to do next. Clearly he wasn’t coming back. She had no idea where he could have gone, where she should look. She was willing to bet that he’d covered his tracks well, and hoped that he had some kind of plan. Her plan, of course, was to find him; she knew he needed her, even if he didn’t, and nothing else mattered to her now.

She went to the small sink behind the bar and washed her face, breathing deeply and trying to come to grips with the reality of it so she could act. Then she returned to the desk with a purpose, looking through all of the papers and documents she found there. There was nothing to give any indication of his next move, or where he might have gone. She hadn’t really expected there would be, but she had to start somewhere.

She pushed the button on the intercom again.

“Yes, Mrs. Hart?”

“Deanne, did Mr. Hart give any indication where his meetings were?”

“Um, actually he didn’t.”

“Is that usual for him?”

“Well, not really, but it does happen occasionally. Especially if it’s something personal.” Deanne was pleased to hear the expected composure back in her voice.

Jennifer held in a sigh; she knew that would have been too easy. “Okay. Thanks, Deanne.”

“Oh, you’re welcome, Mrs. Hart.”

Jennifer knew there wasn’t anything else to be done there, but she was suddenly loathe to go home to an empty house. But maybe…maybe he’d be there. Or call. Deep down, however, she knew better and frowned in frustration. She needed to think, to do something, to look somewhere.

On her way out, she couldn’t help but say to Deanne, “If Mr. Hart returns, ask him to call home, would you please?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Thanks.”

“Anytime, Mrs. Hart.”

Outside, she noted that his car was still there, in its customary spot, just like when she’d arrived. She realized that since he presumably wasn’t going to come back for it, she’d need to drive home and come back for it. She didn’t want it left there, and she certainly didn’t want anyone to know he was gone just yet, just in case. Jennifer knew her husband well, and suspected that it would be very hard, even for her, to discover where he was. But she _would_ find him; she had to.

On her way home, Jennifer decided to go by the corporate apartment; she knew no one was currently staying in it. She had no real thought of finding him there, but she had to look somewhere, to start some kind of search. As she’d predicted, there was no sign of him there. She checked several other places before resigning herself – randomly driving around would get her nowhere. She’d have to find another means of locating him.

When she got home, she went through the motions of taking care of Freeway and preparing dinner for herself, although in the end she left it uneaten, unable to stomach it. Freeway stuck close by her, sensing her strange mood, following her as she left the kitchen and went from room to room, searching the house, checking now for the photos and for any other signs he may have left, knowingly or not. She noticed things now that she hadn’t seen earlier - the clothes, the toiletries and other personal items, that were gone…clearly he had left prepared.

Finally, she went to sit in the living room, where she pulled out his letter to read over again, for the hundredth time hoping for some sort of clue in its words. But of course there was nothing – she knew there wasn’t, having already memorized its contents. It was her only link to him now, and instead of the reassurance he’d surely intended, it only brought her a confusing mix of frustration and heartache. 

Realizing that she had nothing to go on, she knew she’d have to come up with a plan for her search. She was used to conducting research for her articles, but suspected this would be completely different. For one thing, she wanted to keep his disappearance a secret for as long as possible, not knowing what the implications would be for the company or what arrangements, if any, he’d made. She sighed and thought of Max, then – he could also be very resourceful at times, and she could have used his stalwart assistance and support. But even if she’d known where to reach him, she knew she couldn’t interrupt the time he was spending with his nephew; they were dealing with their own harsh loss right now. No, Max was not available; she’d have to work it out on her own, no matter how long it took.

There was only one person who had any knowledge of what was happening to Jonathan, besides herself. Jennifer reached for the phone and quickly dialed Susan’s number, only to be frustrated when there was no answer. After trying several more times with the same result, Jennifer was at a loss. Susan must have been on rounds, or had an emergency at the hospital to be so unreachable. It was too late now to call her office. And what would she be able to do, anyway, other than listen to her friend’s worries? She felt that Susan should know, certainly, but what could she really do to help now? Jonathan was gone, and Susan’s medical skills were useless without her patient.


	8. Chapter 8

_Back and forth we sway like branches in a storm_ _  
__Change the weather still together when it ends_ _  
  
_

_That may be all I need_ _  
__I_ _n darkness she is all I see_ _  
  
_

_But things just get so crazy, living life gets hard to do_ _  
__And I would gladly hit the road, get up and go if I knew_ _  
__That someday it would lead me back to you_ _  
  
_

_Fi_ _nd a way to bring myself back home to you_   
  


_\- Maroon 5, “Sunday Morning”_

*********

Jonathan looked around the sparsely furnished motel room as he set down his bag. He sat on the edge of the bed, a hand going to his suddenly aching head. Then he found a glass in the adjoining bathroom and quickly took some of Susan’s pain meds, hoping that he could remain himself – and in control - until she arrived.

He’d had a long day, and he knew the headache had to be a result of it. But he’d gotten this far without losing any time. He sighed, wondering what Jennifer was doing at that moment; he was afraid he could guess, and it bothered him. Once he’d left the house, he hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on his wife, afraid of losing his resolve. And yet, really, he’d also thought of nothing else as he’d gotten his plans in order.

Now he let his thoughts go to her, taking out the photos he’d brought from home and looking at them before setting them up on the nightstand next to the bed. He missed her already, so much. He believed he was doing the right thing, but it depressed him to be parted from her, to know she’d be worried, and upset – even angry, perhaps - with him. He would never want to cause her anguish, but he’d never thought he could be a threat to her, either, as he now believed himself to be. His thoughts turned to the day before, to the bittersweet joy he’d felt, knowing it would be the last time in what might be a long while that he’d spend with her. So far, he remembered it all….

*********

After their morning shower, Jonathan had stayed home from the office, although he’d made a couple of calls. He wanted to spend all of that day and the night that followed with Jennifer, all the while wondering if he’d remember it the next time he awoke. His only hope had been that he wouldn’t have any black-outs in those twenty-four hours; he had felt a great need to remember every minute clearly. So, later that night, after they’d shared an evening as special, as romantic and loving as he could make it, he’d quietly gotten out of bed and gone to the library, opening the cabinet where Jennifer kept her journals, pens and paper. There he’d found a new, blank journal and, sitting at her writing desk, took a little time to write down everything he could remember about the day: the little things they’d done together, their conversations, the loving moments they shared. He’d written about making love with her that night, tenderly, gently, knowing that he was there, fully present. He’d needed to be sure, even if he couldn’t remember it later, that he’d be able to experience it through his own writing, his own hand.

He left her his other notes, hoping when she read them that she’d be able to understand the necessity of his actions. But this journal he’d kept for himself, to not only remember his day with her, but also to record whatever came next. Perhaps one day it, too, would help her to understand what he’d felt he had to do, and why.

When he’d finished, he went back to bed, holding her close when she turned to him in her sleep. He hadn’t found much sleep for himself that night, but he didn’t care, thankful for every moment of awareness, glad just to be there with his arms around her.

*********

A knock at the door brought Jonathan out of his reverie. Opening it, he found Susan there. She’d been surprised by his phone call, and by the location of their meeting, so far south of the city, but had, of course, been willing to meet him.

“Jonathan – are you okay? I was concerned when I got your call.” She looked around the room. “Where’s Jennifer?”

“Susan, come in. Jennifer is at home, I presume.”

“You presume? Jonathan, what’s going on?” She peered at him more closely. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I have a headache – it’s been a long day. I think I’m okay, but I’m, ah, not always sure anymore.”

“Come over here and sit down,” she directed, leading him to the bed, where she gave him a cursory exam. “Well, you seem to be all right at the moment.” She met his eyes. “Now, how about telling me what’s going on? Why are you out here alone? Does Jennifer know where you are?”

Without looking away, Jonathan answered her, “No, she doesn’t. I didn’t tell her I was going.”

“What? Why? She must be worried sick.” Susan was in shock, flabbergasted at his admission.

“I have my reasons.” He turned away then, getting up and pacing the room. Susan thought she saw a tormented look cross his face.

“Jonathan, why? What’s going on? I want to help you, but to do that I need to know what’s going on.”

“I – I’m a danger to her. That’s all I’m going to say. I had to leave – I couldn’t risk - ”

“A danger? No – I can’t believe that. Jonathan, that was an accident.”

“Not this time. There’s more, and I don’t know if it was an accident this time. I can’t remember any of it! But she was hurt, and I was to blame. I couldn’t allow it to go on. Believe me, it’s better this way.”

Jennifer hadn’t mentioned any new incidents, Susan thought to herself. But then there hadn’t been much time – she’d ended the conversation rather abruptly earlier that day. What had she discovered at that moment? That he was gone?

“Jonathan, of course I’ll help you. But I won’t lie to Jennifer – I can’t.”

“I know – I won’t ask you to. I’m sorry. But she can’t know where I am until this is over. I only need my medical records, I have some help lined up. You can, tell her you saw me, tell her I’m okay, that I love her - ” he faltered before going on, “But by the time you do I’ll be gone again.”

Susan could see the stubborn determination in his eyes, as well as his anguish. She didn’t know what he thought had happened…if it had been serious, she was sure Jennifer would have mentioned it. Clearly he wasn’t thinking rationally, but she couldn’t see much evidence that he was actually incapacitated. It was a fine line to cross, and she was torn about what to do. She had patients, responsibilities, but she couldn’t let him go off by himself. How could she face Jennifer if she did? What would Jennifer want, or expect, her to do?

“Okay. Let me think a moment.” It was her turn to pace the relatively small confines of the room. It didn’t take her long to come to the only possible conclusion, the only option she could really consider. “Jonathan, I’m staying. You need my help.”

“Susan, I can’t ask you to do that – you have work - ”

“You’re not asking – I’m offering. No, I’m insisting. I’ll find someone to cover my rounds and appointments. I can call in some favors, rearrange my schedule. You need help, and I don’t think you should be off on your own just now. Jennifer called me – she trusted me to find the answers about your illness. I couldn’t face her, talk to her, and not tell her, or worse, tell her I did nothing. So, I’m staying.”

Jonathan hadn’t expected that, but found that he felt quite relieved by this turn of events. Since Susan was familiar with his case, her assistance would be invaluable – and certainly preferable to the arrangements he’d made.

“Susan, thanks for the offer, but are you sure?”

“Yes, I am. You and Jennifer have placed a lot of trust in me. I can’t let you, or Jennifer, down now. Yes, I’m very sure.”

“She can’t know. Not yet.”

Susan was unhappy about that, but knew he meant it. She had to maintain his trust, if she and Brian Pierson were going to figure out what was wrong with him, if she was to help him get back to Jennifer. She took a deep breath, hoping she wouldn’t live to regret this promise. “Okay. I won’t tell her.”

He looked satisfied, then asked, “What about Drew?”

“Well…things haven’t been so good between us lately. I’ll tell him I have a conference or something. He may not even notice.”

“Susan…”

“It’s okay, Jonathan. Don’t you worry about that. I’ll take care of it.”

He looked solemnly at her, fully aware of the sacrifice she was about to make on his behalf. “Thank you,” he said simply, grasping her hand.

Again she saw his anguish, and her heart went out to him, trying to do what he thought was the right thing, and to Jennifer, who she was sure wouldn’t agree with his choice and was suffering because of it.

Her heart heavy, Susan took off her coat and sat down with him to discuss the plans he’d made.


	9. Chapter 9

_I had a dream last night_ _  
__I dreamt that I was swimming_ _  
__And the stars up above Directionless and drifting_ _  
  
_

_Somewhere in the dark_ _  
__W_ _er_ _e the sirens and the thunder_ _  
__And around me as I swam_ _  
__The drifters who'd gone under…_ _  
  
_

_I had a dream last night_ _  
__And rusting far below me_ _  
__Battered hulls and broken hardships_ _  
__L_ _e_ _vi_ _athan and lonely…_ _  
  
_

_The black clouds I'm hanging_ _  
__This anchor I'm dragging_ _  
__The sails of memory rip open in silence…_   
  


_\- Josh Ritter, “Change of Time”_

*********

After a rough night, which she spent largely in a waking nightmare of wandering thoughts, Jennifer had finally fallen into an exhausted half-sleep. When the gate buzzer sounded, she awoke with a start, feeling generally awful. Her head ached from lack of sleep and food. She reached for the intercom.

“Yes?” she asked groggily.

“Courier, ma’am,” was the polite reply.

“If it’s for Mr. Hart, could you please take it - ”

“Pardon me, ma’am, but it’s for a Mrs. Jennifer Hart.”

“Okay. Come on up then.” She sat up slowly, reaching for her robe, having no time to get dressed.

Hearing the car approach, she looked out the window and saw the courier logo on the van’s side. 

“Come on, Freeway.” He looked up at her from the bed and obeyed, still sticking close to her side as he had the night before.

After signing for the package, a rather largish manila envelope, she set it down on the table by the door, not certain that she wanted to deal with it just then. It either had nothing to do with her husband, in which case she didn’t care what it was, or it did, in which case she wasn’t sure she was ready to face it.

She turned away, intending to go upstairs to shower and get dressed, but anxious curiosity got the better of her and she turned back, reaching for the envelope. She flipped it over to look at the return address and felt a stab of surprise as well as confusion. It was from George Caldicott & Associates, a legal firm Hart Industries – and Jonathan – used from time to time, when the issues to be handled were particularly sensitive. George Caldicott was a highly respected lawyer, and in high demand, well-known for his keen mind and legal expertise as well as for his discretion. What on earth could he be sending her?

Genuinely puzzled now, Jennifer went to the living room and sat down, ripping open the envelope. A thick sheaf of papers and a smaller manila envelope spilled out onto the coffee table. The papers looked like legal forms, and certificates of some kind. She looked over the pile of documents on the table, then picked up the stack of papers, setting it in her lap to go through it. She turned over the smaller envelope and then hastily set it back down – her name was hand-written on that one, and she didn’t think she could handle another letter from Jonathan just yet. Luckily, her eye caught a piece of paper as it slipped to the floor, distracting her. It was from the law firm; the letterhead stationery felt heavy in her hand as she quickly glanced over it, her jaw dropping in shock. She turned to the legal documents, which only confirmed what the letter had indicated - that a substantial amount of Hart Industries stock had been transferred to her.

“Oh, my god, Jonathan, what have you done?” she whispered. She leaned back against the couch, the stock certificates sliding from her hands to the floor. It had puzzled her before, but now she understood all too well the seemingly random comment in his letter – about how this could be more difficult than she might realize.

Without even checking, Jennifer knew that she had to have a controlling interest in the company now. She’d had a large investment in Hart Industries stock of her own, and the quantity he had transferred to her, well, it was significant. She felt the weight of it bearing down on her; how could she be concerned with the company when what she needed to do was find him? She couldn’t even begin to think about the implications of this right now. She sat up and reached for the other envelope, figuring there wasn’t much else that could surprise her now. There was no message, no note this time, she was somewhat relieved to see, only a smallish notebook filled with Jonathan’s handwriting – a journal, one she quickly realized he’d used to document his symptoms, to keep track of his days.

She closed her eyes, then drew a deep breath as she set it aside, deciding to save it for later. It just might help her to understand, but it wouldn’t help her find him, and she was anxious to get started. And now that meant her first order of business was to pay a visit to the office of Caldicott and Associates.

*********

Arriving at George Caldicott’s office, Jennifer went to the receptionist’s desk without hesitation.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes – I’m here to see George Caldicott.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but it’s urgent. I’m sure he’ll see me.”

“Well, he’s pretty busy getting ready for a big case, but I’ll check for you. Your name is…?”

“Jennifer Hart.”

“One moment.” The receptionist got up and went to the office door, knocking lightly then entering. In a moment George Caldicott came out of his office, greeting her warmly as he ushered her in.

“Jennifer – what a surprise. What can I do for you?”

Taken aback and thinking that he ought to know, or at least be able to figure it out, she said, “What can you…George, please – I need to know what’s going on.”

He looked perplexed, saying, “Well, that makes two of us.”

She waved the envelope from his office with the stock paperwork in it.

“Oh – that.” Again he looked confused.

“Yes, that,” she said. She stood there and looked at him expectantly.

“Jennifer, won’t you sit down?”

“George, I want some answers.”

“I don’t know what you mean. Didn’t Jonathan explain - ?” As he spoke he led her to a chair by the desk and waited for her to sit, then sat down himself across from her.

“Well, no, actually, he didn’t.”

“But surely you knew he was leaving town?”

Thinking it best not to appear in the dark on that score, she answered, “Yes, of course – but how did you know?”

“He told me yesterday, when he was here.”

“Here? Yesterday? When?”

“Yesterday afternoon, when we arranged for the stock transfer. I’m sorry, Jennifer – I assumed you’d know what he was doing. He asked that it be expedited, and sent over by courier for your signature, since he was on his way out of town. It seemed a bit odd, I admit, but since it was Jonathan I didn’t question it.”

“Of course. Still, I have to say it was a bit of shock to me. I didn’t see him after he left the house yesterday morning, and he ah, didn’t mention this.” She smiled then, trying to make light of the situation.

“Clearly it’s a surprise to you, Jennifer, but I’m not really sure I see the problem.”

Jennifer seemed to be staring off into the distance, momentarily lost in thought as he spoke, but she responded, “No, no, George, there’s no problem, really – I just couldn’t reach him this morning. By the way, ah, how was he?”

“What do you mean?”

Her eyes snapped back to meet his. “Oh, never mind. Is there anything else you can tell me about your meeting with him?”

“He seemed adamant that it be taken care of as soon as possible, said he was going out of town. That’s about it.”

“Nothing else?” she pressed him again.

“Not really – just the small package that he asked me to include with the stock documents – I trust everything arrived okay?”

“Yes, of course. I have the documents here…I’ll just leave them with you.” She began searching through the larger envelope and pulled out some forms and a pen. She hadn’t signed them at first, had hesitated about signing them at all, but on the drive over she’d thought of little else, wondering what would happen if she didn’t.

She’d had to face the reality that if something happened to Jonathan, if he didn’t come back soon (or at all) then there could be a chance of losing the company completely, and she simply couldn’t take that risk. Jonathan had built Hart Industries from the ground up. It was his legacy, and it needed to be protected.

So she signed, understanding that Jonathan had considered these very questions himself in deciding to do this, and that he had probably done it as much for her as for the company itself. So she would have to do what she could to keep things running smoothly until his return.

Interrupting her thoughts, George asked, “Jennifer, is there anything wrong? There truly didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary here, for all that he wanted it done so quickly. It was a simple enough transaction.”

She looked him in the eye again, considering how open she could – or should – be with him. He was possibly the last person to have seen Jonathan before he left town. She also considered that she might want his legal expertise at some point – a neutral party to help her with anything that might come up.

“I know Jonathan has always come to you for help with matters of a, shall we say, sensitive nature. He trusts you, and that isn’t something I take lightly.” She paused, still considering him. He met her gaze steadily, wondering what was coming next. “George, I may be in need of your services – your help – while Jonathan is out of town.”

“Of course, Jennifer, anything at all – you name it.”

“I may need your advice, your counsel, regarding Hart Industries matters.” “Hart Industries? Why?” he asked, feeling surprised.

“I already had a sizeable amount of Hart Industries stock of my own, George. And…I don’t actually know how long Jonathan’s personal business will keep him out of town.”

“Why not?” George blurted out, really surprised now. Everyone knew how inseparable the Harts were. If he needed to be gone for that long, surely she would have gone with him?

“I can only tell you that Jonathan could be away for an extended period of time, and I have to protect his privacy and his interests while he’s away. I just hadn’t figured that that would include the company, too.”

“Are you saying you believe you have a controlling interest now, Jennifer?”

She nodded, saying, “I am – I’m sure of it. And once this is made public it’s only a matter of time, days probably, before I’ll need to assume more responsibility for that interest.” She went on, almost as if to herself. “I can’t do that right away, George – I have some things that need to be taken care of first. I’ll be wrapped up in Hart Industries soon enough.”

She stopped, and feeling that there was really no more to say, nothing more to learn, she rose and offered him her hand. “Thanks for seeing me on such short notice, George. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome, Jennifer. Just let me know what I can do for you while Jonathan is away.” He let go of her hand as she turned to leave, wondering what they’d really just been talking about.

“I will. Thanks again,” she said from the doorway, then left quickly, having learned mainly that George didn’t appear to know where Jonathan was, and wondering if she’d perhaps said too much.

*********

As Jennifer left the lawyer’s office, she was already pondering what she needed to do next. Everything would have to change now. One thing was certain - she would delay taking on the responsibilities of CEO for Hart Industries as long as possible. She figured she wouldn’t have much time to look for Jonathan - a few days at most – before her obligations to the company would begin in earnest. She supposed there was no avoiding that now. Her next thought struck her so suddenly that she stopped midstride – then she hurried to her car, knowing who she could turn to.

When she got home, she dialed the number of the police department and asked for Detective Herschel Grey. Detective Grey was a friend, and she knew he could be counted on to help her and be discreet about it. She was surprised, and relieved, when he was there and not out on a case.

“Jennifer! How are you and Jonathan doing? It’s been a while.”

“Ah, hi, Herschel, I’m fine, fine…actually, I was hoping that you’d be able to come by the house – I have something urgent I need to discuss with you, if you wouldn’t mind.”

There was something in her voice that told him this was serious…the distracted way she responded to his greeting, the way she made her request with no preamble. “Yes, of course, Jennifer. I need to wrap up a few things here first, but I’ll come as soon as I’m finished. Tell Jonathan to have my usual ready – I could use a drink after the day I’ve had,” he said, trying to lighten the conversation up, but also listening carefully for her reply. Again, the distraction…something was definitely up.

“Ah, yes, of course, Herschel. Thank you…I’ll see you later, then. At the house.” She hung up quickly, not wanting to give too much away over the phone. Rather than setting the receiver back in its cradle, she dialed Susan’s number again, still getting no answer at the house, and likewise, only getting the answering service when she called her office. She left a message and hung up the phone, going then to sit on the couch, rubbing her temples as a headache began to set in.

She sat lost in thought for a few moments, turning over the incredible events that had taken place since the day before. Then she reached for Jonathan’s notebook and settled in to read it, trying to look at it with an investigative or critical eye rather than an emotional one, to better analyze what his condition had been – and his opinion of it. She needed to understand why he had felt driven to make such a drastic choice. And perhaps there would also be some clues about his plans. She hadn’t gotten very far when the gate buzzer sounded, much sooner than she’d expected, and she jumped, her heart racing as she went to answer it.

Herschel had actually left for the Hart residence right after taking Jennifer’s call. Something was clearly going on, and his curiosity had gotten the better of him. He’d known Jonathan Hart for quite a while now, and always thought the man had struck pure gold when he’d met and married Jennifer. He cared for them both a great deal, and whatever was concerning her now – well, he hadn’t been able to stay in his office, wondering what she needed; the paperwork would just have to wait.

“Yes?”

“Jennifer, it’s Herschel.”

“Come on up.” She opened the gate, waiting anxiously for him to make the short drive up to the house and greeting him at the door.

He held her hand a moment longer than necessary, noting a look he wasn’t used to seeing in her eyes. She appeared to have gotten no sleep and looked exhausted, rather than her usual, polished self.

“Jennifer, what is it?” he wasted no time in asking.

She turned away, agitated, he thought, and led him into the living room. “Can I get you anything, Herschel? A drink?” 

Following her he said, “Ah, no, actually, I’m fine. Jennifer, what’s happening? Where’s Jonathan?”

She’d been headed for the bar, and he saw her back stiffen a bit involuntarily at his question, and knew immediately that whatever was wrong had something to do with her husband. She turned to face him, worry plain in her eyes now. He waved a hand at the couch, indicating that they should sit down.

“Now, tell me what’s going on.”

“He’s gone.” She felt as if she’d choke on the words.

“What do you mean, gone? Kidnapped? Missing? What?” Herschel asked, rapidly, on the alert; he knew that Jonathan Hart would be a valuable hostage.

“No, no, nothing like that. He’s just gone. He left.”

“Well, where’d he go?” Herschel was getting confused. He knew better than to think Jonathan would ever leave his wife, so she couldn’t possibly mean that.

Jennifer saw that he wasn’t understanding her, so she took a deep breath and told him everything, but stopped short of sharing the letter itself; that was too personal. Herschel just listened in wonder, quickly coming to understand Jennifer’s distress.

“And now he’s gotten it into his head that he’s somehow a danger to me and has taken things into his own hands.” She got up, pacing the room, her hand at her forehead, anger now evident in her body language, her voice, mixing in with her worry. “I can’t believe he’s done this, Herschel. I don’t think he’s in any condition to be making such rash decisions. I know his motivation to protect me is a strong one, but he’s the one who needs it right now! Obviously, he’s not thinking clearly. He _can’t_ be. He needs me, needs Susan’s medical help - but I can’t reach her either. I’m sorry, Herschel, I know he’s maybe not technically a missing person, but I didn’t know where else to turn. I’ve got to find him before - ” but she stopped herself there, her eyes clouding over, unwilling to express those concerns out loud.

Herschel ran a hand across his face, understanding why she was so upset. It didn’t sound good, and he decided then and there to help her however he could.

“You were right to call me, Jennifer. I’ll do whatever I can to help, you know that. Okay?”

An apprehensive look crossed her face even as she nodded. “I don’t want an official investigation just yet, Herschel. I want to find him before this gets any more out of hand and get him medical help…I don’t see any reason to make this public.”

“Of course, Jennifer. I understand. I’ll use the utmost discretion, I promise you. If I can do anything anonymously through the department, I will, but you can count on my help in any case.”

“There’s something more, Herschel. I just can’t believe he’d - but it’s done, now, apparently, and I just don’t know how I’ll manage - ” She stopped talking and turned away for a moment, clearly frustrated now. She resumed her pacing, and he just waited for her to go on.

When she did continue, it was as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was saying. “It appears that Jonathan has transferred a significant amount of Hart Industries stock to me, and I’ll have to take on his responsibilities there. So I don’t know how much time I’ll have to search for him.”

“Why do you think he did that?” Herschel asked gently. He thought he could see a clear explanation for that, but he wasn’t so sure, at least at the moment, that she could.

She frowned, glancing at him as she paced, and admitted with a trace of bitterness, “A part of me wonders if he didn’t do it to keep me occupied, distracted, unable to search for him.”

Herschel got up now and reached out to her, putting his hands on her shoulders to get her to stop pacing. Then he waited for her to look at him. “Really, Jennifer? Are you sure that’s it? Or, could it be, perhaps, that he simply wanted to keep Hart Industries intact, and he knew he could entrust it to you?”

He could see that she was considering this, that she already knew in her heart that it was true. He watched as the anger left her eyes as she said, “But how can I search for him now? I’ll probably have only a few days at most before I’ll need to take over there.”

“Yes, and that’s why you called me,” he said firmly. “We’re going to do everything possible to find him quickly. And given what you told me about his condition, even if we do, he may still need you to be in charge for a while.”

She had to acknowledge that he had a point, and knew he was promising to help them, no matter what it took, and she was grateful to him.

“Thank you, Herschel. You don’t know what a relief it is to have your help.”

The conversation turned then to making plans, deciding what avenues to pursue first, knowing that conducting this kind of search could take a lot of man hours. They agreed to start that afternoon by checking airports and bus stations, that sort of thing, thinking it would be best to check while it was recent, and to eliminate them early.

“You said he left the car?”

“Yes, I had to go back for it.”

“Well, that was smart - we can’t put an APB out on the license plate. Okay then. We can start with the taxis tomorrow - that’s going to take a while, I’m sure. If we split up the companies, it’ll go faster.”

She nodded in agreement. “Thanks, Herschel.” They finished their planning and got up to get started. Jennifer was relieved to be doing something; it had been nearly 24 hours since she’d discovered Jonathan was gone, and she was anxious to begin looking.

Herschel stopped her by the door, knowing what he planned to say would be difficult for her to hear. He felt compelled to say it anyway; he knew how these things often went. “I’m glad you called me, Jennifer, and I’ll do everything I can – you know that. But I have to warn you – it can be hard enough sometimes to find people who simply get lost. Finding someone who doesn’t want to be found, well…” Seeing her eyes cloud over, he immediately wished he hadn’t gone there. He turned away momentarily, wiping his hand across his face, then looked back at her, contrite.

“I’m sorry, Jennifer…it’s just that, well, I guess my job has jaded me to a certain extent. Of course I don’t think Jonathan intends not to come back. I know you’re worried that he won’t be able to help himself, but it sounds to me like he’s still functioning pretty well. Well enough to carry this off, wouldn’t you agree? He’s pursuing answers on his own, and if he finds them - _when_ he finds them, he’ll be back. If we find him in the meantime, well, then you’ll see this through to its conclusion together.”

“It’s all right, Herschel, really – I understand. It’s something I’ll have to face, I suppose, if he doesn’t find the answers he’s looking for.” Her gaze shifted, but then he could see her resolve return. They both knew that Jonathan had no intention of staying away, that in his heart he hadn’t left her at all.

“Let’s go find him,” Herschel said, holding the door for her.

She nodded and they left to begin their search.

*********

_I_ _t was night and Jonathan was on the edge of a dark wood. It was unlike anywhere he’d ever been, and he had no idea how he’d gotten there. He must have had another blackout. He looked around, wondering how to get back to the center - Susan would undoubtedly be concerned and looking for him. But he saw no signs of civilization anywhere – nothing looked at all familiar to him, and he had no idea which way to go. How long had he been out of it, to arrive in such a strange place? He began to feel uneasy._

_There was something foreboding about this wood, and yet as he tried to figure out which way to go, meaning to stay in the open, it beckoned to him somehow - he didn’t seem able to keep from entering it. As he walked between the trees, he quickly lost sight of the edge of the clearing he’d been in, and he lost his sense of direction. Then a strange, dense fog began to seep through the air around him. It was unlike any other fog he’d ever seen, thick and dark, an inky blackness that absorbed light rather than reflecting it, despite the occasional glimpse of moonlight through the trees._

_The fog swirled about him as he moved, and when he stopped it coalesced, blocking the moonlight and even the sight of the trees around him. As it surrounded him, Jonathan began to feel more disturbed and isolated, and amazed that he could breathe in it. Again he wondered what he was doing there, how he’d gotten there, but things seemed so hazy and he had difficulty thinking. He shook his head, trying to clear the murkiness and gloom from his mind._

Suddenly Jonathan awoke. Looking around the dark room, he was again confused about where he was. But gradually he realized that he was in his room at the center, and he remembered. He was relieved to know that it had been a dream – that he hadn’t blacked out and wandered off into the night, lost. He wiped a hand across his face, his eyes. The dream had seemed so entirely real, it was alarming; his heart still raced with dread from the experience.

His head aching again, he sat up slowly, reaching for the ever-present bottle of pain-killers and the glass of water, both within easy reach on the nightstand. He looked through the darkness for Jennifer’s picture, then, despite his headache, flipped on the light and reached for it. As he looked at the photo of his wife, he felt a stab of loss and uncertainty that for a moment undermined his determination to safeguard her, to do the right thing. But he pushed those feelings away, knowing in his heart that he _was_ doing the right thing. He held in a sigh, wishing he could look into her eyes and her heart, wishing he could explain so that she’d understand.

*********

Something was definitely brewing at Hart Industries - he was sure of it now. Rumors were flying around…no one had seen or heard from Jonathan Hart in days, it appeared, but Mrs. Hart had apparently begun to spend more time at the office. What was going on? Why was she there, instead of him? He just wasn’t getting enough information, and it was frustrating. He had to be able to track the man’s descent into madness – a madness he’d set in motion! How else was he to know the right time to make his move?

Finally, unable to stand it any longer, he decided to take a risk. He needed information, and besides, he craved even hearing the sound of her voice. He dialed the number before he could change his mind. It had barely rung more than once when he heard her voice at the other end; it sent a thrill through him to have such direct contact. But suddenly he didn’t know what to say – he should have made a plan first, thought of a cover story. Now it was too late and he froze, saying nothing.

_“H_ _art residence.”_

He didn’t answer, instead just waiting, mesmerized by her voice.

_“H_ _ell_ _o?”_ There was a pause, then she went on, sounding a bit hesitant.

_“_ _J_ _onathan? …Jonathan, if it’s you, please, please say something. I need to know if you’re all right.”_

Surprised, he drew in a breath then hurriedly covered his mouth, wanting to stay silent, to see if she’d go on. This was getting interesting! Her voice lowered then to a whisper, and he had to strain to hear it.

_“_ _If it’s you, Jonathan, please come back – come home.”_

Unnerved, he quickly slammed the phone down and leaned back, thinking. Finally he drew a deep breath, however, and a smile came to his face. So, Hart was gone, and she didn’t know where. It was an interesting turn of events, and one he wouldn’t necessarily have predicted, although he knew his drug could cause unpredictable behavior before the victim succumbed, with luck, to full-blown dementia or worse. But he brought his thoughts back to the importance of this event to him personally. He could consider this development in his study of the drug later. Now he simply felt thrilled at the thought that the man had abandoned her. It confirmed his belief that Jonathan Hart was a worthless excuse of a man, certainly not good enough for her, and here was the proof. He’d have to be careful as he went forward, although this could be even better – and easier - than he’d hoped. He’d have to start watching her more carefully now that his main objective was achieved: Jonathan Hart was out of the picture! After a suitable period, he’d decide how and when he would approach her and prove to her that he was an infinitely better match for her than Hart had ever been. He laughed with glee, very pleased with this turn of events.


	10. Chapter 10

_There’s a voice, shouting inside my head_ _  
__There’s a space on your side of the bed_ _  
__There’s a hope, every time there’s a sound_ _  
__There’s a silence that’s playing too loud_ _  
  
_

_I don’t know where you are_ _  
__O_ _r how you may be_ _  
__But I know I love you still_ _  
  
_

_I_ _f the road ahead becomes too hard to climb_ _  
__I_ _f there’s something in your heart that tells you to stop…_ _  
__O_ _h to hold you close tonight_ _  
__I_ _’d wait for life_   
  


_\- Take That, “I’d Wait For Life”_

*********

Jennifer sat at the desk in Jonathan’s office. Even after the last couple of weeks, she still thought of it as his, and almost felt like an imposter in that chair. What was she doing here? She felt she was barely holding on as CEO of Hart Industries…barely able to convince others that she _wasn’t_ an imposter, an interloper, and to some, a thief.

Fortunately, much of the company ran on smoothly without a lot of interference or direction from her. For the things that did require her personal attention, she hoped she had enough familiarity with her husband’s business philosophy, and therefore that of the company, to make sound decisions. She’d always known her husband was a brilliant businessman, but taking over the running of the company as she’d had to do had given her an even greater appreciation for his accomplishments at Hart Industries.

However she felt about Jonathan leaving her in charge, at least he’d enlisted Marcus and Deanne’s help and support; she knew she’d be lost without their assistance and loyalty. Neither knew the reason for their boss’s absence or the need for such a drastic and official change of command. But it was clear that they’d heard directly from Jonathan, perhaps through Caldicott & Associates, and so far neither had been so bold as to ask her to explain anything. She was sure they assumed she knew what was going on, that she’d taken on this role willingly and was also getting direction from Jonathan. She did what she could to keep up that façade. Yet she struggled through it all, trying not to resent the time it took away from her primary purpose: searching for Jonathan. Did he realize, she wondered randomly, when he’d left Hart Industries in her care, that it would occupy her so much that she wouldn’t be able to spend as much time as she wanted and needed looking for him? Had he intended that for her? But she chided herself, knowing it was important to keep Hart Industries as stable as possible, to not lose the company if it could be avoided.

Her eyes strayed to a pile of folders and reports that sat on the far edge of the desk. Her fingers and mind itched to delve into those reports. After a lot of footwork trying to track Jonathan’s movements – so far to no avail even with Herschel Grey’s assistance - she’d realized that there could be some potential, however remote, of finding a clue buried in the layers of information in Hart Industries’ business reports. She’d requested them from all divisions, ostensibly in order to better familiarize herself with the company.

Perhaps she was grasping at straws, but Jonathan had made no arrangements with any of their personal accounts, hadn’t drawn on their private funds even once in all of the time he’d been gone. She had to wonder how he could be pursuing his answers without any support. So even if it was a long shot, it seemed worthy of consideration. In any case, she couldn’t stand just being idle, and they didn’t have any concrete leads to pursue.

As her thoughts inevitably shifted from her work to Jonathan’s disappearance, Jennifer considered, yet again, another person’s timely vanishing act. She felt certain now that Susan’s sudden – and as far as she could find out, unending – business trip, at almost the exact same time as Jonathan’s disappearance had to be anything but a coincidence. She’d ended her last conversation with Susan rather abruptly, but even so, her friend had never given any hint of an impending trip or conference, as Drew had reported when she finally reached him. It was a source of frustration for her, and also, perhaps, the only ray of hope that kept her going. To think that Susan was helping Jonathan, searching for a diagnosis and a cure – that he wasn’t on his own after all - was a comfort to her. But if that was the case, she thought Susan would have been in touch with her, even if he could not. She surmised that Jonathan must have sworn her to secrecy, most likely against her better judgment. It vexed Jennifer to think about what Jonathan had believed, and, if she _was_ with him, that he could have asked Susan to keep his whereabouts a secret. And despite her worry and dislike of being kept in the dark, Jennifer would want her friend to help her husband, no matter the cost to her own peace of mind. But it created a myriad of difficult emotions for her – frustration, hope, relief, anger…even, to some extent, jealousy. But most importantly, hope. Jennifer sighed as she refocused her attention on the tasks at hand. Finally, she finished reviewing the documents in front of her, making notes for Marcus. She pressed the button on the intercom.

“Deanne, I’ll be heading home shortly. I’m leaving the merger paperwork on the desk, ready for Marcus in the morning.”

“Of course, Mrs. Hart – I’ll let him know,” Deanne said. After a brief pause, she continued, “Ah, Mrs. Hart – before you leave, is there anything I can do to help you with the event on Friday?”

Closing her eyes and muttering a silent curse, Jennifer pressed her fingers to her forehead, her elbow resting on the desk. She’d forgotten all about the party, planned to celebrate important successful developments in the aerospace division. She didn’t want to deal with it at all right now, but she knew she’d have to. It would be her first social appearance as Hart Industries CEO.

“Deanne, it completely slipped my mind.”

“I guessed as much, Mrs. Hart – you’ve got a lot going on right now. I’d be happy to take over the arrangements, if it would help.”

“Actually, Deanne, that would be great. I’ll send over everything I have…”

Jennifer said, glancing at her watch.

“I’ll send a courier for it this afternoon, Mrs. Hart. Just leave everything to me,” Deanne said.

“Thanks, Deanne. You’re a life-saver.”

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Hart.”

Jennifer leaned back in the chair, her thoughts going to the now dreaded semi-public function at the end of the week. She wished she could get out of it. But it would only last a couple hours, she reasoned, and then she could go home. She smiled wistfully, thinking that she usually enjoyed these functions. In particular, she enjoyed the flirting she and Jonathan would engage in, first while getting ready, then at the event itself, and continuing, full-blown, when they got back home. Her favorite thing about their business parties was the time when, once the required pleasantries were behind her, she’d look around, searching for him in the crowd. She’d spot him across the room, looking so resplendent, so dashingly handsome in his tuxedo…the mere thought of it, even now, was enough to cause her heart to beat faster. Sometimes he’d be engaged in conversation with a guest and she could simply watch, drinking in every detail of him, appreciating everything she saw. At other times, she’d locate him only to find that he was looking for her at the exact same moment. She could feel the familiar, exciting shiver that would inevitably run up her spine at the way he looked back at her - the slight, private smile meant only for her, the sparkle of his eyes, full of meaning, as they pored directly into hers…they’d inevitably be on their way home very soon after such an encounter. Now, the thought of attending such a function without him…well, she thought it might be more than she could bear.

Jennifer sighed, then stood and began gathering her things, putting the files she’d selected in a box. She didn’t think she could sit in his chair any longer that day, as irrational as that feeling might be.

*********

Once she was in the house, Jennifer set her box down and leaned back against the door, feeling relief at having escaped the office. Despite all the help Deanne and Marcus gave her, there were times when she just couldn’t see them, couldn’t be there any longer. And while there was a loneliness, a too-quiet emptiness in the house without Jonathan’s presence, still she loved it and found comfort there, in the home they’d created together. She felt closer to him, in touch with him in ways she couldn’t be anywhere else.

And there was always the hope that this time, this day, he might phone, or come walking through the door, calling her name. But then she felt a pang of heartache as she remembered the call she’d received not long after Jonathan left; she’d picked up the phone but no one was there. Her heart had leapt at the possibility that it was him, reaching out to her, and before she could stop herself, she had spoken as if he was there, at the other end of the line.

_“_ _J_ _o_ _nathan, if it’s you, please, please say something. I need to know you’re all right. I love you….”_ But there had been no answer, even though she could tell the line hadn’t been disconnected. She had wanted to pour her heart out, had so desperately wanted it to be him…when the line went dead, she’d broken down in sobs on the desk, one of the rare times she’d given in to the despair that seemed to be hovering over her all the time.

There had been no calls like it since, and rationally, she knew that it must have been a wrong number, that she had let a random, mistaken call get the best of her. She couldn’t let it happen again; she had to be stronger than that. So she tried not to dwell on the thought of him contacting her. If he did, it would be because he had news, and he wouldn’t stay silent – of course he would want her to know he was okay. She knew he would contact her, or come home, as soon as he was ready and able - unless she found him first.

Shaking her head to clear the memory and repressing a sigh, she carried her box to the living room, setting it down next to the others she had yet to go through. Freeway came running to greet her, and she was momentarily distracted from her thoughts. She took a few minutes to attend to him, feeding him his dinner and playing with him in the back yard, but the boxes in the living room were calling to her, as they did every night. She went back in and sat down, pulling out some files as Freeway settled down at her side.

So far the reading she’d done each night had been dry and fruitless, even as she learned a great deal about the company and its subsidiaries. She paid particular attention to the medical branches, and any unit conducting research involving human subjects. Jennifer wasn’t sure exactly what she was looking for, but she knew she’d recognize it when she saw it. At least that was the idea, even if it seemed like looking for a needle in a haystack.

After spending several hours on the reports and files that littered the living room, Jennifer paused, stretching and glancing at her watch. Taking a sip of her tea, she grimaced when she found it cold and bitter. It was late, and she knew she should stop and go to bed. She felt stiff and tired, and the pages were blurring in front of her eyes. On other occasions she had stayed up late, immersed in the files and reports, until exhaustion caused her to fall asleep among them. As much as she felt an urgent desire to find a clue in those records, she also found that too long at it, finding nothing, left her feeling more disconnected from him and from the very purpose that drove her to go on. When she fell asleep there on the couch, she would be haunted by nightmares, her worst fears rising to the surface of her subconscious. She’d wake with a start, disoriented, her heart racing even as the dreams receded from her memory, leaving her with only a foreboding sense of ill-ease and a heartache she couldn’t dispel.

Jennifer rose, calling to Freeway, and made her way up the stairs. For a while after Jonathan’s disappearance, she’d found it very difficult to be alone in their bed. She had always felt his absence most acutely there, before, whenever he’d had to be away and her own obligations prevented her from accompanying him. But she quickly realized the importance of fighting against her despair and worry. It was her nightly ritual, as she tried to go to sleep, to focus on the love and happiness she’d always felt in that room, to remember the countless beautiful moments they had shared there. As a result, she found that her dreams were more likely than not to be pleasant, rather than filled with her fears of what could befall him, and therefore preferable to her restless nights on the couch.


	11. Chapter 11

_You are not alone tonight_ _  
__Im_ _agine me there, by your side_ _  
__I_ _t_ _'s so hard to be here_ _  
__So far away from you_ _  
  
_

_I_ _'m counting the days_ _  
__'til I'm finally done_ _  
__I_ _'m counting them down_ _  
__Yeah, one by one_ _  
__I_ _t feels like forever_ _  
__'til I return to you_ _  
  
_

_W_ _hat I'd give, what I'd do_ _  
__K_ _nowing I'm not there for you_ _  
__[_ _M_ _ade] it so hard to leave_ _  
__W_ _hat I'd give, what I'd do_ _  
__Anything to get me home to you_ _  
__This time I'll stay_  
  


_\- Theory of a Deadman, “Wait for Me”_

*********

_J_ _o_ _nathan was again standing at the edge of the strange, dark wood. He knew he’d been here before – enough times now that it was no longer a surprise to him although it was still disturbing. He looked expectantly toward the trees now, without quite recalling why. He only knew he had to wait, to look...and then suddenly he saw her. Some distance away, a beautiful woman with auburn hair, in a flowing gown, so pale a green it was almost white, was moving slowly through the trees…everything seemed to be in slow motion here. The dense, black fog swirled thickly, offering up only momentary sightings of her as she passed between the trees. He was struck by her lovely face, so familiar, and also by her expression, glimpsed through the murky darkness. She looked sad, but determined. Anxious, as if searching for something, or someone. She paused to look around every tree, but there were so many…she looked and looked, apparently not finding what she was searching for, and so she moved farther and farther away from him into the wood, and then the blackness seemed to swallow her up until he could no longer see her through the strange fog. He wanted desperately to call to her, to go to her; his desire to do so was overwhelming. But for some reason he couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. The fog got thicker and thicker around him, dense and impenetrable; he felt immobilized by it, could feel it pressing against him now, preventing him from moving after her into the forest. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, the cloying mist clinging to him, entering his lungs now as he tried to call her name._

“Jennifer!”

Jonathan awoke with a start, hearing the echo of her name in the air, knowing it had come from his lips. His heart pounded in his chest. The nightmare still gripped him, and his breath was short and ragged. He lay still, just thankful the mist was gone, and waited for his heart rate to slow.

The nightmare always seemed so real - the first time he’d had it, he would have sworn that it had been. Now, even though he knew better, still his panicked response was the same. Just as in the dream, in reality he truly was cut off from the world, isolated, away from her who completed him and made him whole. She was his reason for living, and, he remembered now, the reason he’d had to leave, as well. Sometimes it was difficult to remember that this had been his choice, his decision. He’d been a danger to her – he remembered that now, too - and he couldn’t allow that.

There was a soft tapping on his door, followed by the entry of a young man - his assistant, or nurse, apparently. He was a constant in his life these days, and he recognized him, but Jonathan didn’t really care about his presence – deep down he knew who he truly needed.

“Mr. Tobin?”

He didn’t respond, didn’t know who he – Franklin, that was it – who Franklin was talking to. Tobin wasn’t his name – only, he realized belatedly, it was. What was going on? It was such a chore to remember.

‘You’ve had another bad dream, I think, Mr. Tobin. Do you need help getting back to sleep?” His voice was deep, seeming somehow incongruous with his strong but thin and wiry frame, his dark good looks.

Jonathan shook his head. He knew he needed sleep, rest, that he’d be better off taking what the nurse offered…but even if it was a bad dream, _she_ was in it, and he felt that he’d lost too much of her already, in his waking hours.

“Well, I’ll leave it here for you all the same. If you need anything else, just call. Dr. Kendall will be in to see you in the morning.”

He simply nodded, remaining silent as Franklin left the pill and a glass of water on the nightstand and left the room, closing the door on his way out. Jonathan sighed, musing that it was getting increasingly difficult to tell the difference between day and night, between the real world and the dream world…as if he was slipping away, spending more and more time in that inky darkness.

He looked to where he knew his photos were on the nightstand; he could barely make them out. He imagined that the blackness was blotting out Jennifer’s image before his eyes, despite the low light of the moon coming from the window across the room. Sighing, he reached for the glass of water, reluctantly picking up the pill and swallowing it. Then he closed his eyes, concentrating on keeping Jennifer’s beautiful face, during happier times, in his mind as he sank into oblivion.

*********

Early the next morning, Susan stopped by the small office occupied by Franklin in the bungalow they now shared with their patient. When they’d arrived at the private, mission-run hospital, she and Jonathan had had separate but neighboring bungalows, but as Jonathan’s condition had deteriorated and she’d worried more about leaving him alone, they had moved into this larger one and she’d hired Franklin to assist Jack Tobin…it was a good arrangement, and relieved some of her worry whenever she left to meet with Brian Pierson or work in the small lab there at the facility.

It was routine now for her to check in with the private, live-in nurse who was on duty with Jonathan - Jack, she corrected herself – whenever she couldn’t be there. She did as much as she could in the bungalow, to monitor Jonathan personally and now, also, to give Franklin much-needed breaks. Although, she thought ruefully, their patient’s care seemed to be getting easier as he became less and less active. In the beginning he had seemed so much himself, it had been hard to tell he was ill. But he had worsened quickly after their arrival, and she’d become more adept, she thought, at recognizing the signs of the blank moments, lost time, and episodes when he didn’t seem himself, when he could be prone to acting out in unpredictable ways. It made Susan thankful for Franklin’s presence and assistance, especially when Jonathan tried to leave, as he sometimes did in his sleep or during an episode he wouldn’t remember later.

He had described a forest to her once, saying that _she_ – Jennifer – was there, looking for him, and he had to go to her. She knew it was a dream he had, and when he started talking about it as though it was real, she’d gotten even more concerned. Shortly after came the first time he’d been found wandering around the grounds of the facility in the middle of the night, remembering nothing of the incident later. So she’d hired Franklin and moved them into the other bungalow. Clearly she couldn’t leave him alone and unattended any longer, and she deemed it well worth the expense of hiring a live-in nurse. Franklin got along well with his patient, and was efficient and kind. Susan was pleased with how well he was working out.

“Good morning, Franklin. Did he have a good night?”

“He had another of his nightmares, Dr. Kendall.”

“The same one?”

“Yes, I believe so. He didn’t say. He didn’t want the sleeping pill, but I left it. He took it at some point during the night.”

“Okay – good. Maybe he’ll have a good day today, then.”

“How’s your research going?”

Susan rubbed the back of her neck as she answered. “Well, obviously it kept me all night this time – I couldn’t abandon it. I just don’t know what we’re dealing with here or if we’re making any progress.” She sighed. “I’d better go check on him. You should get breakfast, or something.”

“Thanks, I will. Would you like me to bring anything for you when I come back with Mr. Tobin’s?”

“Yes, thanks, Franklin. Just whatever they have.”

He nodded as he left for the cafeteria, acknowledging her words even though it was their usual routine now.

Susan went to the bedroom where Jonathan still slept. She knew she needed sleep herself, but she always checked on him first. Then perhaps she’d have some breakfast when Franklin returned. She could sleep later; she wanted to spend as much time with Jonathan as she could whenever he was awake, so she could evaluate his condition – both his behavior and general health. He was almost never alone now – either she or Franklin was always nearby. The facility, in turn, helped guard their privacy, and consequently they were cut off from the world, truly in hiding, just as he had arranged. In fact, only the two of them had any real access to him at all, and she was the only one who knew his true identity.

Being in the private facility allowed her to dictate her patient’s care without interference. They also provided basic services such as the cafeteria, laundry and medical supplies, even the small lab space where she could conduct some of her tests. They specialized in providing for their clients’ every possible need, and were paid a hefty price for it. Susan continued to collaborate with her colleague, Brian Pierson, whose knowledge and expertise in medical research as a pathologist surpassed her own. He was exceptionally good at interpreting results and suggesting new directions to explore. She had been relieved and grateful when he’d remained intrigued with their case, and that he’d accepted the anonymity of their patient, but then that was the norm in research involving human subjects. Brian had more than returned any favors owed; indeed, Susan felt indebted to him many times over at this point. He’d carried on with his own work, but was willing to meet with Susan on his own time. She brought whatever she had to him, whether it was her own test results, new blood samples or notes from her observations and interactions with their patient.

They’d only recently found an unknown chemical substance in Jonathan’s blood. They had eliminated one thing after another as they’d refined their techniques, and finally they spotted tiny quantities of something Brian didn’t recognize, and so far, couldn’t identify. Thereafter they’d found it consistently, in every new blood sample. The quantity of it was increasing, and Susan had to wonder how that was possible. Just as they couldn’t explain what the substance was, nor could she readily identify any delivery method for the drug, for surely that’s what it was.

The thought that it was not a natural or recognized substance had made Susan renew her vigilance of what – and who - he was exposed to. Jonathan Hart was an important man; it wasn’t beyond speculation that there could be a plot against him. While they couldn’t know, let alone control, what he’d been exposed to before, Jonathan now lived in a much more restricted environment. Franklin had been given explicit instructions to minimize and monitor – discreetly, of course – their patient’s interactions with others, for example, while out on hospital grounds. But this had been fairly easy – at first because Jonathan himself had confined his movements to the bungalow and an occasional walk when the grounds were largely empty, and lately because he was more likely to have blank episodes during which he tended to be less mobile than before. And while she’d discreetly checked out the food suppliers for the center’s cafeteria, there was no reason, really, to think anything was in the food. She’d tested Franklin’s and her own blood and found nothing, and Jennifer had never exhibited any of the symptoms affecting her husband. No, whatever it was, it seemed specific to him, whether natural or introduced. That thought alone was very disturbing to her, since in either case, they had no idea what it was or how it worked, making a cure difficult at best. And she feared that time would begin running out soon.

Susan sat in an armchair by the window in Jonathan’s room, lost in her thoughts as she alternated her view of the atypically pretty hospital grounds with glances at her patient and friend. Her mind was still actively buzzing after being up working all night, and she couldn’t even nap in her chair, comfortable as it was. She was glad to note that Jonathan was sleeping peacefully, even if it was drug-induced. Normally she’d prefer not to do that to him, but since they’d had a few strange events at night, she had encouraged the sleeping pill when she could get him to take it.

She wondered if it would be a good day for him, or not…good days being those when Jonathan was alert, aware of himself and his surroundings, as well as his reasons for being there. She sighed, realizing that good days had become a lot to hope for. It had been a while since he’d had more than just short periods – moments, really – of clarity, of self-awareness. She felt her anxiety increasing at the thought, afraid that she would fail him, fail Jennifer…that she and Brian wouldn’t find a cure before it was too late and he slipped away for good into the black fog of his nightmares.

Not for the first time, Susan felt a pang of conscience and no small amount of guilt about not contacting Jennifer, but she knew she had to honor Jonathan’s request. Not only was she bound by doctor-patient privilege, but it was the only promise he’d extracted from her in exchange for allowing her to accompany him, to help him; she’d been afraid, especially in the beginning, that he might disappear if he found out she’d talked to Jennifer.

All the same it eased her mind to know that he had trusted her enough to let her come with him. She also felt that Jennifer trusted her, and would want her to help him. Susan hoped Jennifer had surmised that she was in fact doing so from her sudden absence…it had been the only kind of message, such as it was, that she’d been able to leave for her friend.

Susan’s thoughts were interrupted as he stirred, waking at last. Despite being a bit groggy with sleep, she thought his eyes were clear as he looked at her; when he was lucid, it seemed to take him a few moments to assess things, to recall where he was and why she was there, too - and why Jennifer wasn’t, she supposed. She could see the realization hit him, catch the play of emotions pass over his face before he could master them, hiding them away…it was what she looked for each time - that recognition of how things were, whenever she tried to determine what his mental state was.

“Good morning,” she said, perhaps a tad too brightly, while looking steadily at him.

“Good morning,” he replied, his eyes closing again as he got his expressions under control. “How long this time?” he asked.

“You mean since you and I last talked?” She knew he was asking how long it had been since he’d been present enough to have one of their conversations, that he knew time was passing by without his awareness.

“Oh, a few days, perhaps,” she answered vaguely.

Jonathan frowned; he knew that she understood his question. He trusted that she had always been straight with him, never hiding the truth, though her answer seemed somehow more vague this time. But looking at her again, her exhaustion was plain and he let it go. “It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” he guessed.

She hesitated, then answered him forthrightly. “Yes, I’m afraid it is.”

He’d tried occasionally to calculate the total time they’d been there, but had to admit to himself that he didn’t really have a clue anymore. He refrained from posing that question now, however, instead asking, “Do you know anything more?”

“No, not much more than before,” she admitted as she rose, looking out the window again. “You may recall that we were able to identify something, a chemical substance, perhaps, in your blood. It doesn’t appear to be bacteria, or, or anything natural. Brian is still working to identify it, and I’m monitoring its presence and effects on you. There’s an indication that it’s increasing – we don’t know how or why yet. So I’ll need to draw more blood later today.”

He met her gaze when she turned to look at him, feeling tired of it all despite knowing how necessary it was.

Susan moved then to sit in the chair closest to his bedside and looked intently into his eyes. She began to speak in a quiet whisper, so as not to be overheard if Franklin returned sooner than expected. She had avoided this discussion so many times before, but somehow couldn’t now - not this time. Jonathan saw her intense gaze, saw her hesitate, and guessed what would come next. He closed his eyes in denial before she even began.

“Jack…” but she dispensed with that with an impatient shake of her head. She reached out to place her hand on his arm; she needed him to look at her, to _li_ _sten_ to her, this time.

“Jonathan…Jonathan, please, I think we need to reconsider - ”

“Susan, please don’t – you know what I think about that - ”

“But that’s just it - I don’t, not really. And that’s okay - you can choose not to tell me what happened, Jonathan. But you cannot expect me to honestly believe that you could ever pose a real threat - _not to her_. I won’t believe it, and I’m sure she doesn’t, either. Please, let me call her. She must be sick with worry - ” She saw that Jonathan’s eyes, though reddening, were flashing, too, and that his jaw was set. She prepared for an argument, wanting to resolve this now – but then she heard signs of Franklin returning, and there was a knock on the door as he came into the room. They each took a moment to look away, to compose themselves, before looking at Franklin. If he noticed the agitated state both doctor and patient were in, he gave no indication.

“Breakfast is here, Mr. Tobin, Dr. Kendall,” he said.

“Thanks, Franklin.” Susan got up then rather quickly, upset that they hadn’t finished but unwilling to have this confrontation in front of Franklin. She made her way out to the main room of the bungalow, where the food would be waiting on the table. Seeing that Mr. Tobin was awake and alert this morning, Franklin turned to follow Dr. Kendall, knowing that his patient wouldn’t need or want any assistance getting ready this morning.

Jonathan took a deep breath, glad to have avoided the rest of that conversation, his thoughts now going to all of the many reasons he hadn’t wanted to continue. He’d been so relieved when she offered to come with him, confident in her abilities and that it would just be a matter of time before they found a diagnosis and a cure and he could go home to his wife, in charge of his own thoughts and actions again. But his fears and doubts had grown since learning about the chemical they’d found in his blood. If this thing wasn’t natural, wasn’t known to someone, somewhere, then what was it? How had it gotten into his body? Was it possible that it had been done to him, purposefully? And if so, was there also a risk to Jennifer? But he felt certain that she hadn’t also been infected with whatever was causing this in him, that she hadn’t been harmed, except through his own actions.

So he remained adamant that he be kept from her, despite his own desperate need for her company. He denied himself that luxury, that solace only she could provide, still absolutely convinced that it was safer for her this way. He couldn’t acknowledge that his need for her might be as important, if not more so, to his own health as his desire to protect hers. And deep in his heart, he knew that he was depriving them both of the one thing that could sustain them through any trial. His heart ached because of that understanding, but his mind persisted in focusing solely on the issue of her safety, and the mistaken belief that he could, however unwittingly, compromise it.

Jonathan sighed as he finished dressing. He knew he was having what Susan and Franklin called a “good” morning. On one hand he was relieved, glad whenever he wasn’t lost in that black fog, as he privately thought of those times when he seemed to exist in some strange kind of dream-state, and things happened that he didn’t recall later. At the same time, it was also a burden – having to acknowledge that he was sick, knowing he was slipping into some kind of undiagnosed, neurological illness. And if he was honest with himself, he was afraid…afraid of what couldn’t be controlled, no matter how much effort he put into it; afraid of what was ahead, if Susan and Brian couldn’t find a cure; and perhaps most of all, afraid of facing it alone…or, more specifically, of facing the possibility that he might never see Jennifer again.

It was difficult sometimes to stay positive, but all he could do was continue as he had been, in hiding, pursuing whatever answers Susan and Brian could offer. He hoped they would have one soon, enabling him to go home healthy, sane, and no longer at the mercy of the black-outs. So he pushed his fear aside as best he could and instead focused on the day when he would get home, when he’d see Jennifer and hold her in his arms again, breathing in the scent of her hair, feeling the touch of her lips against his. He knew that day would come…it had to come, no matter what, for both their sakes.


	12. Chapter 12

_Until I find you_ _  
__I_ _'ll keep on searching_ _  
__Until I find you_ _  
__I_ _'ll keep on breathing_ _  
  
_

_How long will this road_ _  
__c_ _o_ _ntinue on_ _  
__without you beside me?_ _  
__I_ _'m not that strong…_ _  
  
_

_W_ _hen will I look into your eyes?_ _  
__How long, how long?_   
  


_\- Tim Vanhamel, “Until I Find You”_

*********

Jennifer woke abruptly, startled, and found herself on the couch; the papers in her lap slid to the floor as she moved. She lay back again, her heart pounding, sure she’d had another nightmare, although thankfully it was fading rapidly from her conscious mind. Still a bit disoriented, she jumped when the phone rang again, then got up hastily to answer it.

“Hart residence,” she said groggily, shaking her head to clear it.

“Jennifer? It’s Herschel. I was hoping to catch you before you went to the office. Are you free today? I’m meeting a contact and I think you should come with me,” he said, not beating around the bush.

Surprised, Jennifer glanced at her watch, suddenly clear-headed as his words sank in and she mentally reviewed the day ahead; she couldn’t think of anything urgent that she had to attend to. In any case, there was no way she was going to miss whatever Herschel had planned.

“Yes, of course I’m free. When did you want to leave?”

“Well, I had a message waiting for me when I got to the office and ah, actually, I’m on my way over right now.”

“Okay, Herschel – I’ll be ready.”

Jennifer went to make some coffee then quickly got showered and dressed. When Herschel arrived she buzzed him in at the gate, telling him to come in and help himself to some coffee while she finished getting ready.

When she walked into the kitchen he was seated at the table with his cup of coffee. He hadn’t seen her in several days and was taken aback by her thinness; he’d suspected that she wasn’t taking care of herself as she should, but it was becoming more apparent. As Jennifer got herself a cup of coffee, he tried to set aside his concern but found it difficult to do.

“Jennifer, how are you?” he asked.

She just shrugged, glancing at him then looking away. “I’m okay, Herschel. I’ve been keeping busy…so, you have some news?” She had grown used to a negative response to this enquiry, but clearly, something was different this time.

“Well, yeah - we may have caught a break. C’mon, I’ll tell you on the way,” he said, eager to get going.

“Where are we going?”

“To meet a taxi driver south of town,” he replied. She set down her cup and went into the living room, hastily grabbing her purse. Then she set the security system and followed him out the door.

Once they were in the car, she asked for details.

“It seems not a single cabbie in the greater LA area saw Jonathan that day, and between the two of us we’ve talked to just about all of them. Well, I kept expanding the search, and just as I was about to give up, figuring we were getting way out of reasonable range, that maybe he’d hitchhiked out of town, I talked to a guy who’d heard a story…so I thought we’d better check it out.”

“What story? Where do we find him?”

“San Clemente.”

“You’re kidding. Herschel, that’s 75 miles away.”

“Nope, I’m not kidding – the story that’s floating around is that this guy was paid a big tip – a _very_ big tip – to drive into the city to pick up a fare, and drive him back to San Clemente. Sounds a bit odd, doesn’t it?”

“Mhmm,” she responded, her mind already working on the implications. The fare alone would have cost a lot, but it made a strange kind of sense.

Herschel went on. “I mean, who does that? Calls a taxi from out of town to come in and get him? Why not go out to the street and hail one, even if it’s for a long trip? Or call a local company?”

“Someone who doesn’t want to be traced does that, I’d say.”

“Right. So we’re gonna go down and meet this guy - it’s all set up.”

She just nodded and they lapsed into silence. Herschel drove carefully and as quickly as he could, given the traffic. He was aware all the while of her fidgeting as she stared out the window.

Herschel suspected that he was the only one who knew the truth about what had happened to Jonathan, that she never discussed it with anyone else. Given her determination to keep the situation quiet, Herschel had originally taken some time off and quietly investigated his friend’s disappearance on his own with Jennifer, rather than use his official channels. But there had been simply no trace of him, no trail to follow, and Herschel had returned to work even as Jennifer was assuming her responsibilities at Hart Industries; both continued their search in every spare moment they had.

Now, though, as her “take-over” of Hart Industries was increasingly common knowledge, along with her husband’s continued absence, Herschel occasionally argued with her about opening an official investigation, saying departmental resources would come in handy. He worried that the longer it took to find Jonathan – or rather, the longer things went with no public acknowledgment of his whereabouts - the worse it could get for her; it was possible that there could be an investigation, regardless of her desire to avoid one. Indeed, rumors of foul play had already begun to circulate, but when he mentioned them to Jennifer, she dismissed the issue as ridiculous. She remained adamant; perhaps she thought it could weaken the company, or that it would be admitting that his absence might not be temporary. But Herschel saw, even if she didn’t, that many people were beginning to think that Jonathan’s disappearance and her taking control of the company had been part of some sort of plot. Now that they might at last be picking up Jonathan’s trail, however, he was hopeful it would all be over soon, before anything got out of hand.

“We’re nearly there now; we got here quicker than I thought, so we have some time before we meet the driver. I know a great little café – what do you say we stop for a bite?”

“Oh, Herschel, I’m not hungry…”

“Jennifer, c’mon, you have to eat. I can tell that you, ah…look, Jennifer, lease - just humor me.”

Meeting his eyes, Jennifer was touched by his concern. She knew he was right, and it was true she had no appetite these days, but she hadn’t really thought it would be obvious to anyone. She reached over now and placed her hand on his arm.

“Okay,” she agreed, simply.

“Good.” He glanced at her, satisfied, then turned his eyes back to the road in front of them.

“Do you really think this taxi driver will know something?”

“We’ll find out soon. But yeah - I think it’s got potential.”

“I think you could be right, Herschel. I certainly hope so.”

He just smiled at her and they continued on in silence, each preoccupied with their own thoughts.

*********

Over lunch Jennifer filled Herschel in on her research into the different subsidiaries of Hart Industries. She’d visited a number of them before with Jonathan, but now she was familiarizing herself with as many of the others as possible, ostensibly to help her better understand the company. She was also, of course, keeping an eye open for anything that might support her theory that her husband had to be getting financial support, at least, through the company. If he was, he had covered his tracks very well indeed, and so far she’d found nothing. She was always hopeful, however, that the next one would prove more enlightening, and provide the clue they needed.

Once they’d eaten, Herschel checked his watch and said it was time to meet the driver. Jennifer was relieved to be going at last. They waited a few minutes at their rendezvous point before the cab finally arrived. They got out and introduced themselves to the Hispanic cabbie, then Herschel began asking questions.

“You said you had a fare from the city, but that it originated here, is that right?”

“Sí, señor – that’s right,” he answered.

“And that he paid you from here and back? That’s an unusual trip, isn’t it?”

“Sí.”

“Is this the man?” Jennifer asked, as she pulled out a photo of Jonathan.

“Sí, I think so.”

“You think so? Are you sure? ¿Estás seguro, señor?”

“Sí, señora – estoy seguro.”

“Bueno – gracias.” She felt a wave of relief wash over her to know that someone had seen Jonathan, and could provide a clue to his whereabouts.

Herschel asked, “Where did you pick him up?”

When the cabbie gave the address, after consulting some notes in a small pad of paper, Jennifer exchanged looks with Herschel – it was not far from the address of Caldicott & Associates, Jonathan’s last known stop that day – and another likely confirmation that it had indeed been him.

“Where did you take him?” Jennifer asked. “¿Donde llevaste el hombre? Por favor – es muy, muy importante.”

The driver met her eyes for a moment, then consulted his log once more. He gave them the address of a local motel.

“Muchas gracias, señor. Thank you.” She held out her hand to him, which he took, and as they left Herschel gave him his card and a generous tip, also thanking him for his time and the information and asking him to call if he ever saw the gentleman again. Then they went quickly to their car and headed for the motel.

The manager there, however, proved to be less than helpful. There was no Jonathan Hart registered on the night in question, and he didn’t seem to recognize the photo she showed him; he barely seemed to look at it, much to Jennifer’s annoyance.

“What - do ya think I have a photographic memory? I don’t memorize their faces, lady, and the names’re right here. I think I’ve been helpful enough. If your husband skipped out on ya, there’s nothin’ I can do about it.”

Sensing Jennifer’s ire building, Herschel decided it was time to make the man see the advantages of cooperating, and so he pulled out his badge. The manager grudgingly allowed them to see the register, clearly under protest and hoping to get rid of them as soon as possible.

“Do you know what you’re looking for?” Herschel said in a low voice. “He’s already said he wasn’t here…”

“No, but I’m hoping to recognize his hand writing, or something.”

She scanned down the pages, reading each name. One caught her eye and her finger stopped on it. Herschel, looking over her shoulder, looked at her questioningly.

“Tobin? Is that a J or a T? An F? It’s hard to tell.”

He turned to the manager. “What is this – can you read it? How long was this person here?”

“So now I’m a handwriting expert? How should I know? Looks like he – or she - stayed just one night, paid cash. Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ve been cooperative enough.” He repossessed the register, putting it away, and turned away from them. Jennifer took a breath, wanting to give him a piece of her mind, but Herschel pulled her away, muttering to her that there was no point.

The name Tobin – if that’s what it said – had brought back memories for her, but she couldn’t be sure…the handwriting had been too unclear, and she wondered if she was again falling prey to wishful thinking. She wanted to believe that he’d been there, despite the inconclusive register.

She felt deflated now, after the high of talking to the taxi driver. She resisted leaving, giving up when they actually had a lead. But while there was much they could do to search in the area, she had to admit that they were at a dead end for the moment. She sighed in frustration as they headed home, but tried to focus on the new directions this lead would take them in their search. She knew they’d be back in San Clemente as soon as possible.

As they neared the city, Herschel glanced over at Jennifer, who’d been quiet since the visit to the motel. He knew she was disappointed that they hadn’t learned anything more concrete in San Clemente, as was he. He tried to assure her that they were making progress, that they’d return as quickly as they could. Looking at her again, seeing a rather haunted, worried look in her eyes now, he felt his earlier concern for her returning. Finally he asked, “Jennifer, I know you said you were fine this morning, but, um, really – how’re you holding up?”

“Oh, I’ve been okay, Herschel.”

He glanced at her again as he drove. After a pause he said, “I know how stressful this has to be for you. You’re exhausted. You’ve been driving yourself too hard. Is there anything more I can do?” She turned her head to look out the window, and he wondered if he’d gone too far, said too much. When she started speaking softly, he had to strain to hear her. Her gaze shifted to her hands as she played absently with the ring on her finger.

“I fell asleep on the couch last night…” he knew that must mean she’d been up with her files, “And when that happens – particularly when that happens, Herschel, I have nightmares. Vague nightmares of a, a void, a black nothingness – it surrounds me, keeps me from finding him. So sometimes I don’t want to sleep. This void, it wears me down, it hovers around me, makes it hard to feel his presence like I usually do.”

He’d pulled the car over as she spoke, and she glanced over at him now as she went on.

“No matter where we are, whenever we’ve been separated, we’ve always had that connection – always. But this time, it’s different somehow. It scares me more than I can say. I’ve found ways to deal with it, to keep him with me,” she said, touching her heart, “but I think I’d go crazy if I didn’t keep busy searching.”

Herschel could hear the anguish in her voice, and see her hands, now clenched in her lap. He reached for them, wanting to ease their tense grip on each other.

“Jennifer, we’ll find him. We will,” was all he could think of to say. Herschel knew that finding Jonathan was only part of her worry for him, but it was all he had to offer her. This role of confidant was a little uncomfortable for him but he swore to himself that he’d be there for her, whether to help her search or simply to listen – to give her whatever she needed.

She gave him a small smile. “I know we will. We have to.” The last sentence came out in a soft whisper. She looked at him again and said, “Thank you, Herschel, for all of your support. I’m not sure what I’d do without it.”

“It’s okay, Jennifer. I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to...I mean, I can’t imagine…uh, well, just know I’m here to help, however I can.”

She just nodded, their eyes meeting in a moment of understanding, and Jennifer felt strangely relieved. Her heart was a little more at ease, not only because they had a new lead, but because this friend of her husband’s, who’d become hers as well, had been the right person to trust, to call upon when she’d needed help. Her heart felt lighter, and her mood again grew stronger and more confident.

*********

After much frustration and uncertainty, it appeared that his unworthy rival was finally gone - hopefully for good. And, after his impromptu phone call, he was feeling some hope, certain that his patience would soon pay off. Now, all that remained was for him to make himself known to her, to step in and comfort her, show her how much he loved her and how much better a match he was for her. This was the tricky part, but he was certain he could make her see how much better off she’d be with him, rather than her joke of a husband who’d finally made his failings known to her.


	13. Chapter 13

_There the rainstorm came over me_ _  
__And I felt my spirit break_ _  
__I had lost all of my belief you see_ _  
__And realized my mistake_ _  
__But time threw a prayer to me_ _  
__And all around me became still_ _  
  
_

_Don’t bend, don’t break_ _  
__Show me how to live_ _  
__And promise me you won’t forsake_ _  
__‘Cause love can help me know my name_ _  
__Lov_ _e can help me know my name_   
  


_\- Seal, “Love’s Divine”_

*********

Jonathan sat, trying to figure out where he was and what was happening around him. He was pretty sure that he wasn’t dreaming. Whenever he was awake he felt Jennifer’s absence keenly, as he did now – like a piece of his heart that was missing. In his dreams at least she was always there, even in the nightmare he had so frequently. Now in the semi-darkness, her absence filled him with that too-familiar sense of loss and the ache of loneliness and regret.

Although he was sure he was awake, it seemed that he was still suspended in the grayish-black mist of his nightmare. His senses muted, he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. He thought he was sitting in a chair - an upholstered one - although he couldn’t quite feel the fabric under his hands. He imagined he could feel warmth from the sun on his face, making it day, not night. He could vaguely make out muffled sounds – a voice? - as if from a great distance. And while he wished to hear, to respond, he couldn’t quite seem to manage it.

Unable to find his way through to the real world, Jonathan was increasingly compelled to retreat into his mind, existing more and more in his thoughts, or preferably, his memories. His thoughts, well, his thoughts disturbed him as he began to wonder, to fear, that however well-intentioned his motives, his decision had been a mistake. He was no longer as certain as he had been of the steps that had brought him to this point. Jonathan trusted his wife implicitly, and increasingly wondered if, in his efforts to protect her well-being, he had jeopardized the trust they had in each other. She had assured him that there hadn’t been anything dangerous in his actions toward her, and in the few years since they’d met, she had never lied to him. When he’d asked her to tell him what had happened that day, while he could tell she’d been reluctant, still he knew that she had told him the truth.

Should that have been enough? Should he have stayed with her, so she could take care of him? He didn’t doubt now that he needed it, and needed her, as he always had. But even so, he also knew he couldn’t have lived with it if any more harm came to her by his own hand. In the end he always came back around to that singular conviction, but the circular nature of his thoughts left him in a state of confusion that he could no longer dispel.

Mistake or not, he was coming to understand, too late, that it didn’t really matter anymore what his motives had been, or that he might wish to reconsider his decision to leave. He couldn’t get out of the fog; he couldn’t make it back on his own. Just like in the nightmare, he was frozen, the gray fog making it harder and harder to breathe, to speak, to _think_. He wanted to shout, to get Susan’s attention, to somehow communicate his doubts to her. But try as he might, nothing happened. He couldn’t reach her anymore, couldn’t get her to understand. He couldn’t get back.

*********

When Jennifer arrived at Hart BioMed the day after their trip to San Clemente, she was met by Dr. Kramer, the facility director. He was prepared for her visit, and proceeded to give her a detailed tour of the facility where they conducted their research, much of it related to neurological illnesses and diseases, cancer, and the like. The tour had been uneventful so far although she’d learned much about their facility, as she had about the other Hart Industries subsidiaries she’d been visiting whenever her schedule allowed. Learning all she could about the various divisions of the company made logical sense in her role as CEO; that she had an additional motive was something she kept to herself. She held in a sigh, wondering if her hope of finding something, anything, that might lead her to Jonathan in this way was just a futile pipe dream. But, serving a double purpose as they did, she’d continued the visits, always keeping her eyes and ears open to any opportunity she might find.

Now, as they walked down the hall, she noticed several rooms furnished as bedrooms, and turned to Dr. Kramer to comment.

“I didn’t think you conducted any residential or in-patient research here, Dr. Kramer. Why the bedrooms?”

“You’re essentially correct, Mrs. Hart – we don’t have any live-in studies, aside from the work we do on sleep disorders. For those studies, our patients need to spend amounts of time asleep – or trying to sleep. Those rooms are for their use and are meant to be short-term – usually just overnight. We don’t have the facilities for long-term, in-patient studies. Many studies are conducted on an out-patient basis, in collaboration with hospitals and other care facilities, when necessary. But most don’t require such extended hospital stays.”

“How do you track them, then?”

“Well, that’s what we have here,” Dr. Kramer said, waving at a door as they passed. “We have to maintain strict anonymity of our test subjects, of course. But we also have incentive programs for participating in many of our studies, so we need a way to manage those. Our records people are independent, and are not connected in any way to the research itself.”

“Yes, I believe I saw a reference to your incentive programs in the annual report,” Jennifer commented absently. In her mind, an idea was forming, as she noted the location of the records room.

Dr. Kramer had continued, “It’s an expense we have to report, naturally. Only a couple people have access to the records, and even then the files are coded and cross-referenced to maintain privacy.”

Jennifer checked her watch as they returned to Dr. Kramer’s office. The day was ending and she observed many of the employees filtering out of the building.

“It’s been a pleasure, Mrs. Hart, but I’m afraid I have our weekly research update to attend before the day is over.”

“You’ve been very kind to give me this tour personally. It’s been quite informative. You have a well-managed program here.” She discreetly observed the lockbox to which he returned the set of keys he’d had with him on their tour.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hart. I’m glad that, as the new CEO, you’re expressing an interest in our research, just like Mr. Hart has over the years. He’s always been not only supportive, but quite interested in our efforts as well.”

“You can certainly count on my support as well, Dr. Kramer.”

“I hope you don’t mind my asking, Mrs. Hart, but will Mr. Hart be returning soon? I heard he was only away temporarily…”

“That’s right. He’ll be back as soon as his personal business is concluded,” she said firmly, then went on, not leaving any room for more questions, “Thanks again for taking the time to introduce me to your facility.” She held out her hand, saying she could see herself out.

She left the office, closing the door behind her, and turned to make her way back down the hall the way they had come, perhaps not realizing until that moment what her intent was. Returning to the facility later would be too risky, she reasoned, especially if there were researchers there 24 hours a day. If staff people were making their way home, and the others were holed up in a meeting, well, she might not get another opportunity to do a little snooping. Much of the research being conducted here was similar enough to her husband’s condition to warrant investigation. And since Jonathan appeared to have had a particular interest and familiarity with their programs, well...her heart pounded a bit as her resolve solidified.

She ducked into a nearby restroom and waited until she heard signs of Dr. Kramer making his way by, hopefully to the conference room he’d shown her at the other end of the building. When all seemed quiet, she made her way back to his office, pulling out a nail file as she approached. She worked on the lock, willing the door to open easily, knowing that she might have a more difficult time with it than Jonathan would have. When she heard a faint click as the lock released, she breathed a sigh of relief. Once inside, she made her way hastily to the lockbox. It posed a bit more of a challenge but behind the safety of the closed office door, she relaxed and jimmied it open with what she hoped was no obvious damage to the small lock. She found the set of keys and hoped that there would be one to the records room door; otherwise, this would all be for naught. She didn’t stop to consider that it might be anyway, and if she were caught she’d have some awkward explaining to do.

She taped the lock open on Dr. Kramer’s door as she left and made her way back to the records room. The hallways were quiet now, deserted, and she hoped that there would be no security patrols to contend with for a while, at least. She began trying the keys in the door, her heart pounding harder with every one that didn’t fit or turn in the lock. Just as she was beginning to think that the director might actually be one of the people without access to that room, she felt the next key turn, and the click as it opened sounded remarkably loud to her ears. She glanced up and down the hallway as she turned the knob and slipped into the room, closing the door softly behind her.

Slowly letting out her breath, she leaned against the door and looked around, trying to decide where to begin. She pulled on several file drawers, labeled with numbers, only to find them locked. She moved down the row of cabinets, coming to the end – or the beginning, depending on how you looked at it. Deciding it was as good a place to begin looking as any, she searched the key ring now for a small enough key and tried the few that were there, excitement washing over her when one worked. Inside this cabinet were what appeared to be reference lists of researchers and project titles. She riffled through them, not sure just what she was seeking. She moved on, and found files she thought must be related to the incentive program - they summarized payments or other types of incentives that went out, related to the different projects. There were what appeared to be identification numbers of some kind, and it occurred to her that perhaps she’d find details for each in the other file cabinets. Now if she could only determine which ones to examine…she didn’t want to be very long, and knew that returning would be too risky.

As she considered her options, her eyes scanning the pages, she suddenly saw one that stood out – it stood out for its brevity, since only one number was associated with the project in question. The rest of the lists had many file numbers listed – pages of them, in most cases. What kind of research would be conducted on only one subject, if that’s what these numbers referred to? She pulled out the page, marking its location in the file, and, reading the number to herself, began scanning the drawer labels until she came to one with the corresponding number group. Holding her breath now, she opened the drawer and found the file in question.

_“_ _075900834,”_ she read to herself, making sure they matched. She had no idea what the numbers meant and didn’t dwell on it, flipping through the first few pages until her eye landed on something that made her heart skip a beat.

“Jack L. Tobin,” she whispered out loud, staring down the page in her hand.

She scanned for more data on the subject. He seemed to be the only participant in this particular research program. Then she found another form with his name – his full name – on it, and she no longer had any doubt that she’d found the clue she’d been looking for, and quite possibly, her husband.

_“_ _J_ _ack L. Tobin – L for Louis.”_ She knew it was him – it had to be! Jack was sometimes used as a nickname for John, or Jonathan, although never by her husband. And the rest – she remembered using the name as an impromptu alias, herself, the first time they’d met - Louise Tobin. No one but him could ever have come up with that alias; she didn’t think for one second that it could be some other person. No – it was Jonathan. For all the care he took to cover his tracks, he’d used an alias only she could ever recognize. A link, however small. Had he even realized? Had he planned to leave her a clue, or simply chosen the name for sentimental reasons? She didn’t care; it gave her something – someone - to look for.

As she flipped through the file she suddenly realized that she also had a place to look in. Jack Tobin had expenses that were being picked up by the company itself, rather than an outside source, and there was a report of money transfers to a bank account in Escondido. And Escondido was only a short distance from San Clemente, up in the mountains.

Realizing she’d been frozen there, staring at the file, she snapped out of it, hastily found a pen and jotted down the name of the bank and the account number, along with any other information she could find. She didn’t want to tip anyone off to her snooping or her interest in this particular project, so she left the file intact for all that she wanted to take it with her. There was no copier in the room, and she wouldn’t have wanted to attract attention by running it anyway. So she wrote down anything that looked important and committed as much as she could to memory. Then she returned everything to where she’d found it and made her way to the door, where she paused to listen intently.

When she was certain there was no one in the hallway, she left, making sure the door locked behind her, and quickly made her way back to the director’s office. After returning the keys to their box, she removed the tape from the door lock and moved calmly to the lobby, hoping that she hadn’t been there too much longer than might be expected after her meeting. She nodded to the security guard at the desk as she returned her visitor’s pass; he knew who she was and made no comment. She breathed a sigh of relief as she exited the building at last, into the cool air of a California autumn evening.

When she got into her car she leaned on her hands, perched on the steering wheel, and took a few deep breaths, willing her heart to stop pounding. After a few minutes, she started the car and left. Reaching for the car phone, she called Herschel’s direct line at the precinct, asking him to meet her at the house when he was done for the day.

“Of course, Jennifer. Although I can tell you that I didn’t find much in San Clemente today – it’s gonna be another long round of interviews, I’m afraid…”

“Forget San Clemente, Herschel. I’ll tell you about it when you get to the house, okay?”

Herschel could tell from her voice that something had happened. “Jennifer, what is it? Why forget San Clemente? It’s our best lead so far – I didn’t mean to complain about the leg work - ”

“Hershel, it’s not that – I found something, maybe Jonathan himself, I’m almost certain of it. We need to go to Escondido.”

Her confident, almost jubilant tone convinced him that maybe she’d had a big break, and he said, “Okay, then, Escondido it is. I’ll be over in an hour, and you can fill me in. I’ll bring dinner.” She agreed, too preoccupied just then to argue with him about food.

When Herschel arrived, only a few minutes after Jennifer had gotten home herself, she actually managed to eat a slice or two of the pizza he brought. After she had told him of her visit to Hart BioMed, he quickly agreed that Escondido was the logical next step.

“What do you intend to tell the bank, Jennifer? They’re not just going to give up Jack Tobin’s account information, you know.”

“I don’t know, Herschel – but we’ll think of something.” Suddenly a look passed over her face and she uttered a curse – he looked at her in amazement, never having heard such language from her before. But the look on her face, one of torn indecision, of anguish, almost, was harder to bear. She turned from him then and paced the room.

“Jennifer – what is it?”

Jennifer didn’t reply immediately. When she did, it was with uncharacteristic resignation. “I can’t go to Escondido just yet.”

“Why not?”

“Hart Industries has a function, an event, tomorrow night – I forgot all about it. I have a lot to do yet to prepare…things I’ve been putting off. It’s been scheduled for a long time, and it’ll also be my first public event as Hart CEO. I can’t miss it. Especially now, with things, as they are. I wish…” her voice trailed off, but Herschel could surmise well enough what her wish was. Herschel knew that Jennifer’s dedication to Hart Industries - and therefore, to Jonathan himself - was the only thing that could interfere with her active pursuit of their newest lead. he’d proven enough in the last few weeks how seriously she took that responsibility, even as he was sure she struggled with the interference it caused her. Jonathan had left his company in her hands and had trusted her to watch over his legacy; nothing else could have made her pause in her search for him.

He stood up and went to stand in front of her, placing his hands on her arms so she’d stop pacing and look at him. He hated seeing the almost haunted look in her eyes. “Okay, here’s what we do. You take care of your obligations to Hart Industries tomorrow. I’ll go to Escondido and begin canvassing, see what I can find out. First thing Saturday morning, we’ll go back down there together. Okay?”

Jennifer wanted to rush down to Escondido and remain there until she found Jonathan. She believed she would find him there and could barely stand the idea of waiting. But her obligation to Hart Industries was clear, and she knew she had to be at the party. At least Herschel could begin the search in Escondido right away. She met his eyes for a long moment. Still weighing her own desires and needs against her sense of duty to the company, and, therefore, also to her husband, she finally nodded in agreement.

“All right, Herschel. I guess that’s what we’ll have to do. Thank you. But please say you’ll come to the party tomorrow night and tell me what you find out.”

Although he suspected that he wouldn’t learn a lot in one day, Herschel agreed readily, all the while wondering where his tux was and if it’d still fit; he hadn’t worn it in some time. He didn’t really enjoy fancy, black-tie events, as this was sure to be – he always felt a bit out of his element. But he knew how important it would be to Jennifer to have an update and suspected that the support of a friend at the company event would also be welcome.

*********

Susan sat at the table in the bungalow, reviewing her notes and the latest test results in preparation for her next meeting with Brian. The substance in Jonathan’s blood had continued to increase steadily, if slowly, and the nature of it baffled her as much as its identification did. She wracked her brain looking for an explanation and, despite her instincts to the contrary, wondered if she should suspect Franklin. But she could find no evidence to convince her he was other than he seemed, and she had to acknowledge that she needed his valuable assistance. She finally decided to go with her gut on that score, while remaining as vigilant as possible.

Jonathan’s behavior had likewise changed dramatically; the best way to describe it was that he appeared almost comatose without being in a coma. He had become largely unresponsive to the world around him, not talking or moving much on his own, although he would walk and eat – so far - when directed to do so and encouraged by a touch of guidance. He would follow directions, but with a blankness of expression, almost a lack of true awareness, that she found most disturbing in a man she had always known to be sharp-minded and vital.

Susan sighed and went to her patient, who was sitting across the room by the window. His expression seemed sad to her, somehow. She laid her hand on his arm and whispered his real name, but got no response. She wanted to believe he was still in there, still somehow aware…but she knew the longer he went like this, the less and less likely it might be that he’d ever come out of it. His seeming retreat into himself had been gradual at first, but the length of his blackouts had increased, his lucid periods appearing less and less often. He was no longer active at all during the black-outs, like before. Instead, he just sat, unresponsive, staring into space. Then rather suddenly, it seemed to her, the catatonic episodes had become the norm, and the person she called a friend had seemed to vanish into a vacant shell of the man she knew.

“Jonathan,” she whispered again, enfolding his hands in her own now, a sudden determination shaping her next words. “Jonathan, I’m going to call her – I have to. She has to know. She has to see you.” _‘before it’s too late…’_ the sentence continued unbidden in her mind. Shaking her head to dispel the thought, she went on aloud, “You’re no longer in a position to object, dear friend, and as your doctor I believe it’s the best thing to do. You need Jennifer, and I know she needs you, too.”

She squeezed his hands as she spoke, watching his face. He blinked when she said Jennifer’s name, but as a doctor Susan knew that it was probably just a blink, an autonomic response, a coincidence – it didn’t necessarily mean that he had heard or understood her words. She wanted to believe that it signaled his change of heart, his approval, that it justified her intent. But then she realized that she no longer cared if he approved or not. She alone could decide what was best for him now, and she had to act on those beliefs.

She checked her watch, even though she knew she couldn’t do anything about it tonight. She’d given Franklin the evening off and she wanted to use a phone located off the hospital grounds. Jonathan’s identity and location were supposed to be secret, and she intended to keep it that way – if for different reasons than Jonathan himself had planned. Perhaps she was being overly paranoid…but she decided that she preferred the word cautious. In any case, she’d gotten used to the arrangements they’d made and saw no reason to alter them now, especially if it turned out there really was something to her suspicion that this had been done to him purposefully. Yes, better to remain hidden from the rest of the world – but, she was resolved, no longer from Jennifer.


	14. Chapter 14

_I can't win, I can't reign_ _  
__I will never win this game_ _  
__Wi_ _t_ _hout you, without you_ _  
  
_

_I can't rest, I can't fight_ _  
__All I need is you and I…_ _  
  
_

_I can't quit now, this can't be right_ _  
__I can't take one more sleepless night_ _  
__Wi_ _t_ _hout you, without you_   
  


_\- David Guetta, “Without You”_

*********

The next day, Jennifer met with Marcus to wrap up some merger business, then consulted with Deanne about the arrangements for the event that evening. The fact that they were at last onto something in their search for Jonathan distracted her and made it difficult to concentrate, but she did the best she could. Later she at last found some time and a quiet spot to finish preparing her own notes.

Finally, figuring she was as ready for her first public appearance as CEO as she was ever going to be, she went home to change. She tried without success to feel detached, to avoid thinking about Jonathan as she went through the motions of getting ready. She so wanted to sense his presence coming up behind her, wanted to feel him wrap his arms around her, and the thrill that would course through her body as his lips caressed her neck, his fingers gently moving her hair aside. Her heart ached with the yearning that such memories stirred in her.

Feeling tears beginning to form in her eyes, threatening to overflow and ruin her carefully applied makeup, she tried to stop her train of thought. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths, marshaling all of her willpower to pull it together.

She knew she had to be in control of her emotions, tonight of all nights. The evening had to be a success, not only to do right by the company and her husband, but to hold her detractors at bay as well. Finally, unable to bear being there alone any longer, she stood up to go, checking her appearance in the mirror. She wanted to escape the dressing room and the memories of happier times started there. There would be time later to relive those memories – and, she hoped, for her and Jonathan to create many more.

*********

Having made her decision, Susan was beginning to get anxious about reaching Jennifer, even more so now that Brian had seen Jonathan for the first time. She’d been unable to get to a phone after their meeting that morning, because Brian had felt he could no longer proceed without examining their patient personally. So despite the increasing urgency she felt about calling Jennifer, Susan had taken Brian to the facility, vouching for his entrance at the gate, and he had seen for himself how their patient was faring.

After seeing Brian out a little while later, Susan finally had a chance to go into town to find a phone, but she had no luck in reaching her friend. When there was no answer at the house, on a hunch she’d tried the Hart Industries office. She left a message, although admittedly a vague one; she’d met Deanne briefly in the past and knew she was Jonathan’s trusted assistant, but she didn’t recognize the voice of the woman who answered the phone.

Checking her watch, she was frustrated at her inability to reach Jennifer, but also knew how busy she could be; she should’ve known she might not reach her on the first try. All the same, she decided to wait and give it a few more tries before giving up and heading back to the center. If she couldn’t connect with Jennifer by the next morning, she decided that she’d just go back to LA in person to look for her, camping out on her doorstep if she had to.

*********

Jennifer couldn’t help feeling a touch self-conscious as she arrived at the party alone, but somehow she’d managed to build a wall around her emotions and was able to maintain her composure as she looked around the still somewhat-empty banquet hall. She’d only been there a few moments when Deanne appeared as if out of thin air.

“Mrs. Hart – you’re here early – I didn’t expect you for a while yet…” seeing something in Mrs. Hart’s expression change, Deanne faltered, realizing she’d perhaps said something wrong. But the look quickly vanished and Deanne wondered if she’d really seen it…she continued in a rush, asking her boss to go with her to review some changes to the program.

Trying to get past the ache Deanne’s innocent, off-handed comment had caused, Jennifer focused on the details of the event with Deanne. When she was clear on the evening’s program, she said, “Deanne, everything looks terrific – you’ve done a great job and I can’t tell you what a relief it’s been that you took on the arrangements.”

“Well, it was easy, Mrs. Hart – pretty much everything was in place. I just had to see your plans through. Everything should be ready. The band is ready and the caterer is all set as well. I see people are beginning to arrive.”

“Whatever they’re serving, it smells good,” Jennifer offered, although she still really felt no inclination to eat, and her stomach was in knots anyway - food was the last thing on her mind. Feeling as strongly as she did that Escondido held answers, she didn’t want to be there at all. But she put that thought aside for the time-being.

“Yes, Bartholomew’s is very popular.”

Jennifer nodded absently as she looked around the room, noting who had arrived that she’d need to make a point of talking to.

“Yes, they did a great job at the board members’ party last month – thanks for the recommendation. I’ve noticed that we’ve given them a lot of business since then.”

Jennifer turned her mind firmly away from the last Hart Industries party, when she’d last enjoyed an evening of flirting with her husband – and when they’d introduced their newest board members. She didn’t want to think of them and secretly rather dreaded having to interact with them tonight. Being new to the company, they had been the most difficult ones to deal with since she’d taken on the lead position in the company. Jonathan’s estimation of both of them had been spot on, she mused…Eames was as disagreeable as ever, and Robertson, well, she remained wary of his motives and intentions. But she turned back to Deanne, who’d continued speaking.

“Yes, we have, and I believe Mr. Bartholomew himself is here tonight to oversee everything.”

“Good, good…I’ll have to take a moment to thank him.” Excusing herself, Jennifer began to move around the room, greeting guests as they arrived. She’d tried to prepare herself for their enquiries about Jonathan and felt she handled them adroitly, but it proved very draining on her emotionally. Turning from greeting the latest arrivals, including Richard Eames and Stan Robertson, she was relieved to find George Caldicott at her elbow.

“George – thanks for coming,” she said as they drifted away from the others.

“I thought you could use the support – especially with those two about,” he nodded slightly toward the board members, and went on, “I’ve heard through the office grapevine that they’ve been a bit troublesome for you?”

“Oh - well, nothing I haven’t been able to handle so far.”

George nodded, asking, “So, Jonathan still out of town?”

“Mhmm,” she responded, still looking around the room.

Leaning in close to her, he went on, “That’s some trip he’s on – everything going okay?”

“Ah, yes, George, he’s fine, everything’s good. It’s just taking longer than expected.”

George thought that there was perhaps some truth, and some not-quite-truth, in her words. “Well, I’m glad to hear that, Jennifer. You look tired. Is everything okay with you? Those two aside,” he said, nodding in the direction of Eames and Robertson, “Everything going well at Hart Industries?”

“Yes, it’s been busy. Well, you know – you’ve seen the results. I really appreciate your willingness to review things for me from time to time, George. And I have some contracts for you to look over next week, if you have the time.”

“For you, Jennifer, always. Just send them over.” He paused, still standing quite close to her, and met her eyes as his hand reached for hers. “Well, Jennifer, if you need anything else, anything at all, please let me know.”

She smiled back at him and said, “Thanks, George. I appreciate it – I really do.” Then she retrieved her hand with a smile and turned as another guest approached to speak to her.

***

Across the room, Stan Robertson and Richard Eames stood, enjoying a drink and discussing their mutual interests in Hart Industries and the changes the company had gone through recently.

“Well, things seem to be going smoothly enough at the moment, I admit. But I signed on to work with Mr. Hart, not Mrs. Hart. What can she offer in his place? She has no business background. I don’t believe she’ll be able to handle it,” Dick Eames was saying.

Stan responded, “I wouldn’t sell the lady short if I were you, Dick – she seems to be doing okay so far. She’s pretty savvy, actually, and smart – and a stunner to boot. I don’t mind looking at her at the head of the board table, I can tell you.”

“Oh, be serious, Stan,” Dick said derisively. “That has nothing to do with it. What I want to know is where her husband is. It’s suspicious, his disappearing so quickly like that, with no notice, and her ending up in charge. I tell you I don’t like it.” Glancing around, his eye landed on Jennifer and George Caldicott.

“Now look at that, cozying up with that lawyer! The one they say handled the stock transaction.”

Stan frowned, following Eames’s gaze. The two did appear to be deep in conversation before parting ways. The official line was that Jonathan Hart was away on personal business, but that he would be returning. He turned to Eames, a speculative look in his eye, and was about to speak when they were interrupted.

“Are you enjoying the party?”

Stan and Dick turned to see who’d addressed them. Marcus eyed the two men, not happy with what he’d overheard before joining them.

“Marcus, how are you? How’s the daily routine over at Hart Industries?” Stan asked.

“Things are going well, very well indeed. Mrs. Hart is doing a very good job.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Dick said. “I admit that while I admire her personally, I wasn’t sure she’d be up to the task.”

“Mrs. Hart is more than capable, I can assure you.”

Eames leaned in and said, rather conspiratorially, “But don’t you find the situation a bit odd? I say, I don’t know what to make of it. I admit I’ve wondered if she just, er, did him in to get the company.”

Marcus let out a loud guffaw, unable to restrain himself, which drew the attention of Herschel Grey, who’d been meandering around the room but now paused to hover discreetly nearby instead.

“You obviously don’t know the Harts at all. The very idea – really, you should keep that one to yourself, Eames.” The scornful amusement left Marcus’ eyes as he gave that advice, replaced with a steely gaze at both of them.

“Why? believe that’s a pretty common rumor, actually. The whole situation is suspicious, I tell you.”

“Well, that’s one rumor I demand you put to rest right now. There’s no way on God’s green earth that Jonathan Hart has been the victim of foul play, especially at the hands of his wife. I’ve heard from him myself – so spread that fact around instead of baseless rumors. We sure don’t need people thinking the company is vulnerable, because it’s not. It’s in very good, capable hands, and I won’t have our own board undermining that fact.” Finished with his quietly delivered tirade, Marcus glared at the two of them until Stan finally spoke up.

“Okay, Marcus, I’m sure Dick didn’t really mean anything by it – if you’ve heard from Mr. Hart then that’s enough for me. Mr. Hart is the lifeblood of the company, after all, and the reason many of us came on board. You can’t be surprised that folks are wondering about his vanishing act and this, er, family shake-up, that’s all.”

“Well, I expect Hart board members to do what they can to put a stop to it. Agreed?” At their nods, one perhaps more hesitant than the other, Marcus turned away, still fuming. He’d been putting out such flames all night, although none had been so blatant about it as Dick Eames.

“Marcus, isn’t that right?”

He stopped abruptly, almost running into the man who had addressed him.

“Yes?”

The man held out his hand, introducing himself. “Herschel Grey.”

“Nice to meet you. Are you a friend of Mrs. Hart’s?”

“Yes, I am – although I’ve known Jonathan a good deal longer.” He nodded toward the receding backs of the two board members. “I couldn’t help overhearing – is there any trouble brewing at Hart Industries over Jonathan’s absence? I understand he’s been gone rather a while now.”

“Well, you know, it’s nothing we can’t handle. Rumors will spread, especially with no word from him. But most people don’t pay attention,” Marcus said, but he looked uncomfortable.

“So you haven’t heard from him after all, then?” Herschel asked, keeping his voice low.

Marcus considered him carefully, wondering at his probing questions. Finding something trustworthy in the man, he went with his gut and answered truthfully. “Well, actually, no I haven’t. Not since the day he left. I guess he’s pretty far out of reach, but I assume he’s been in touch with Mrs. Hart.”

“But you don’t know for sure?”

“No – not specifically. But that’s between them.”

“Even regarding Hart Industries business?” Herschel said, deliberately pushing to see the man’s reaction.

“Look, Jonathan gave controlling interest in the company to his wife, for reasons known only to them. But I trust his judgment implicitly, and now that she’s CEO of Hart Industries, I trust hers equally. I’ve known her since Jonathan married her, and she’s given me no reason not to trust her. And I’m not sure I like whatever it is you’re implying, mister.”

Herschel relaxed and smiled broadly, almost sorry he’d gotten the man worked up. “I’m not implying anything at all; quite the contrary, I assure you. I’m on her side – and therefore yours, I’m pleased to find. You just let me know if you or Jennifer ever need anything. I’ll be happy to help.”

Marcus smiled, relieved to have found a new ally. “Right now what we need is to keep the rumors – and any vultures that might be circling –away from her and Hart Industries.”

“Agreed.”

***

As Jennifer finished with her formal comments celebrating Hart Aerospace’s achievements, she glanced around the room and was relieved to see Herschel standing inconspicuously at the back of the hall, studying his drink and not looking at her. She wondered if he’d been there long, and knew he probably hadn’t wanted to distract her from the business at hand. She wrapped up her comments and made her way from the podium.

She greeted people as she made her way through the room, not wanting to be unfriendly but anxious to find out if Herschel had had any luck that day. Before she could reach him, however, she nearly ran into someone who had approached her unnoticed. She smiled and apologized.

“Ah, no need, Mrs. Hart – no harm done. I just wanted to congratulate you on a successful evening.”

“Well, thank you, Mr. Bartholomew – I’m glad to have run into you, although I didn’t intend to do so literally. You’ve done another wonderful job with the catering and I wanted to thank you personally.”

“Please, Mrs. Hart – call me Nick. And it’s been my pleasure. Hart Industries has been providing Bartholomew’s with quite a lot of business over the past few months, which I appreciate very much.”

“Have you been in catering long, Nick?” Jennifer inquired politely, although she was itching to move on, to reach Herschel.

“Oh, only a few years now. Originally I wanted a career in science, but that didn’t work out as planned…I guess my professors didn’t think much of my chemistry skills,” Nick said with a laugh before going on, “In any case it was easy to pick up an interest in cooking – I’ve always been good at combining ingredients.”

Jennifer assured him that he had certainly found a career in which he deserved success.

Nick paused, then said, “I haven’t had the opportunity to meet Mr. Hart yet. I understand that he’s been attending to business out of town? I was hoping to make his acquaintance.”

When she simply nodded in acknowledgment, he said, “Well, I’m sorry to hear that – I wanted to thank him, too, for all of the business Hart Industries has sent my way.” He paused, then leaned toward her, daring to meet her eye as he said, “it must be something he really needed to sink his teeth into, in a manner of speaking, to keep him from your side for so long.”

Jennifer picked up on the flirty nature of his comment and really had no patience for dealing with yet another come-on – Stan Robertson was enough for one night - especially when she was without Jonathan’s presence to help quell them. She’d grown unaccustomed to the need to fend off the advances of other men, and it irked her that anyone at this event would so easily overlook the fact that she was married, whether Jonathan was present or not. Now she simply looked back at Mr. Bartholomew with a neutral and hopefully off-putting gaze and made no reply.

After an awkward moment the man went on, “Well, Mrs. Hart, it’s been a pleasure.”

“Likewise, Mr. Bartholomew,” she responded graciously as he backed off. She could feel his gaze still on her as she turned, but her own eyes were already searching the crowd as she took her leave. She felt relieved when she finally spotted Herschel on the other side of the room, and began to make her way over to him.

***

Just as she reached Herschel’s side, George Caldicott joined them, offering up words of congratulations on a job well done. Distracted, she thanked him. A glance at Herschel was enough to tell her that he had nothing to report, and she struggled to hide her disappointment, even though she’d known the odds were against finding anything so quickly.

“Jennifer.” Herschel took her hands in greeting, squeezing them to convey his regret at having nothing to tell her.

“Herschel – I’m so glad you could make it,” she said. She turned to introduce the two men. After a few moments of small talk she excused herself and left them, saying she needed to freshen up.

Herschel and George watched her go then turned to eye each other, each trying to assess the other’s role at the event as well as in Jennifer’s life. They struck up an idle conversation, which, as they gained confidence in each other’s intentions, gradually circled around to their mutual concern for Jennifer and Jonathan Hart.

***

Jennifer made her way toward the ladies’ room, needing a few moments to herself, a few moments of relief from the stress and pressure of the evening. She felt things had gone well, and now that her duties were largely over she was overcome with an intense desire to leave, to escape…it was at this point in a formal Hart Industries function, when their responsibilities were over, that she and Jonathan had been able to relax and indulge in a little romance before making their way home. She sighed, her heart heavy, and left the lounge to find Herschel once more.

When he spotted her making her way toward him purposefully, Herschel went to meet her.

“Jennifer, I’m sorry there’s nothing yet…”

“That’s all right, Herschel. It wasn’t reasonable to think there would be, I suppose. But, ah, I can’t stay here any longer. I have to get out of here.” “Okay, then, I’ll give you a ride home.”

“Thanks, Herschel, but I have my car. Wait. If you’re up for it, I’d rather just go to Escondido tonight, so we can get an early start tomorrow. If you need to get home tonight then I’ll meet you there in the morning, but I just don’t think I can wait a moment longer.”

“Um, okay, Jennifer,” Herschel said, thinking it over. “We can go by the house - ”

“That’s out of the way from here, Herschel. I have an overnight bag in the car. I’ll drive. But please, let’s go _now_. I can’t - ” Jennifer had difficulty expressing the urgency she suddenly felt, as if there was no longer a moment to spare.

But Herschel could see her determination, tinged with desperation, perhaps. Knowing what a drain the evening must have been on her, combined with her worry and frustration at not being able to follow her new lead right away…well, he understood that she needed this. So he nodded in agreement, saying he’d bring her car around, and she gave him the valet ticket.

Jennifer was glad he’d agreed to go with her. “Give me ten minutes.”

He nodded and left. She took a breath and went to congratulate the head of Hart Aerospace personally, her last remaining obligation of the evening. When she’d finished, she made her way out of the hall without speaking to anyone else, at last able to focus solely on their new mission in Escondido.


	15. Chapter 15

_W_ _hen the ground beneath you starts a-shakin'_ _  
__And you forget the place we came from_ _  
__W_ _hen you're lost and lookin' for a way home_ _  
__Your way home to me_ _  
__I_ _'ll come out and find you_ _  
  
_

_And there's no doubt that I still love you_ _  
__So when you feel the darkness comin', risin' inside_ _  
__I_ _'ll make a light to guide you back home_ _  
  
_

_And after all the sky has fallen down And_ _  
__a_ _fter all the water's washed away My_ _  
__lov_ _e_ _'_ _s the only promise that remains_  
  


_\- Reba McIntyre with Justin Timberlake, “The_ _O_ _nly Promise That Remains”_

*********

As she stepped through the door and onto the sidewalk in front of the bank the next morning, Jennifer stopped and looked around, but not much was registering. Herschel, a step behind her, didn’t need to look at her to judge her mood; he could feel the frustration emanating from her in waves. He looked up and down the street. Seeing a café down the block, he touched her elbow and gestured in that direction, and they silently began to walk down the street.

Jennifer was annoyed at their inability to get anywhere with the bank manager, but realistically she knew it had been too much to expect. She wished they’d had the time to get her a Tobin ID, but she had to admit even that probably wouldn’t have helped. Still, she seethed inwardly at hitting another apparent dead end. The bank had been their most solid lead yet – to Jack Tobin and Escondido, at least. She wondered if pursuing him instead of Jonathan Hart was a mistake…but some intuition, something in her heart, told her that the two men were one and the same, so she put her doubt aside. Perhaps they should simply stake out the bank, and wait until Jack Tobin showed up, she mused. But then again, the waiting and sitting around would probably drive her crazy. With a sigh, she realized they’d need a new plan for canvassing and searching the area.

When they were seated with their coffee and a local phone book courtesy of the café, Jennifer and Herschel avoided talking about their failed first effort that morning and instead discussed their new plan for searching the rest of Escondido. Herschel would continue canvassing the hotels and motels, taxi companies and the like, starting in the more immediate downtown area and fanning out, while Jennifer would take the car and search area hospitals and clinics. Agreed on their plan to meet back at the café for lunch and to compare notes, they both set out.

*********

As Jennifer pulled up at the next clinic on her list, she was tired as well as frustrated, but certain as she felt that they were close to finding Jonathan, she still had plenty of hope to sustain her. She turned into the short driveway of the Harmony Ridge Center and Specialty Clinic, where she saw a security gate blocking the drive. There were several parking spaces off to the side, and a small building labeled visitor check-in. She parked the car and approached the little office.

She greeted the guard in the building. He regarded her politely but was not overly friendly.

“Hello, I hope you can help me - ”

“Do you have a visitor’s pass?”

“A what - ? No, but I was hoping you could help me – I’m looking for someone - ”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but no one is allowed in without a pass, and I cannot divulge any information about our clientele.”

“Is there an administrator I could talk to about getting a pass?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“Well, how does one become a visitor, then?” she asked, feeling a bit exasperated.

“Visitor lists are established by our clients or their physicians only, not by the administration. I’m sorry ma’am, but I’m afraid the rules are quite strict.”

“Can you at least look at this photo and tell me if you’ve seen this man? His name is Tobin.” She held it up in front of him so he could hardly refuse.

He glanced at it and back to her.

“I haven’t seen him.”

“Are you sure? It’s very important that I find him.”

“I’m sure, ma’am. I’m sorry, but I’m not on any visitor lists, either,” he added, trying to ease her disappointment.

“Okay, well, thanks for your time.”

The guard simply nodded with a smile and returned to his radio broadcast as she left, discouraged but already looking at the address of the next place on her list.

*********

Susan was exhausted. She’d been frustrated at not reaching Jennifer the day before, but after another round of fruitless calls that morning, she was growing a little concerned. Where could she possibly be? By afternoon she’d arranged for Franklin to stay with their patient, even though it was Saturday and he was due for a day off, so she could make the drive up to LA. When she hadn’t found Jennifer at home or at any of her usual haunts – basically anywhere she could think of - she had waited outside the Hart estate for a while until finally she’d tried the security code Jennifer had given her the month before. To her relief it had worked and after driving up to the house and finding no one there, she’d fallen asleep on the couch, still waiting and expecting Jennifer to show up at any moment. When she awoke with a start the following morning, her concern increased even more but she also knew that she couldn’t wait any longer – she needed to get back. She scrawled a quick note for Jennifer and left.

Susan arrived in Escondido after the long drive and decided to make a quick stop for a croissant and some coffee – the stuff at the center’s cafeteria barely passed as drinkable. She was so preoccupied that she ran right into a man as she was leaving, almost spilling her coffee. Excusing herself absently, she barely saw him, although in the back of her mind it struck her that there was something familiar about him. But she shrugged off the sensation, feeling an increasing urgency to check on her patient.

*********

Jennifer came out of the ladies’ room and made her way through the coffee house to where Herschel was seated. She could feel Herschel’s gaze on her when she ordered only coffee, but she just shrugged and he let it go. After the waitress left the conversation turned to their lack of progress, so far, in Escondido. Their efforts the day before had been long and fruitless for both of them.

“Jennifer, are you certain about Escondido? About Jack Tobin?” He wanted to believe her hunch, but felt their lead had been much more solid in San Clemente - at least they’d had an actual sighting of Jonathan there.

Jennifer hesitated before replying, having had the same thoughts herself. But they’d reached a dead end in San Clemente. Doing a basic search there would be no different, and her gut was telling her not to waste time there. “I don’t know, Herschel, I just feel that we’re close – that this is the place. And that Jack Tobin and Jonathan are the same person.”

“Okay. Perhaps we’ll have more luck today. How many clinics do you have left? I still have quite a long list here…”

Jennifer smiled at his hint. “Only a few. Why don’t you give me part of your list?” She paused as he handed over a page of possible contacts from his notebook. “I just have a feeling that he’s here, somewhere, and a clinic, especially a private one, perhaps, would be the likeliest place, especially since he probably…” but she veered away from that line of thought, saying, “There are a couple from yesterday that I’d like to see more of, since I couldn’t get past the gates.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to think of something,” Herschel mused as he considered her, wondering what she might have in mind. Some of the places she’d described seemed almost like mini fortresses.

*********

Susan pulled up to the gate and showed her pass to the guard, even though she had become a fairly familiar presence, with all of her comings and goings. Still, even though they knew her, they held firmly to the protocols in place to protect the privacy of their clients, which she supported.

“Good morning, Harry.”

“Hello, Dr. Kendall.” Harry paused, then said, then asked, “Is everything okay, Dr. Kendall?”

“Why do you ask, Harry?”

“You look tired – preoccupied - is all.” He paused then said, “By the way, someone was here looking for your patient yesterday – Tobin, isn’t it?”

Susan froze, several thoughts rushing through her mind all at once. No one knew, she was sure of it! They’d been very careful, and the center had assured them that the security here was impenetrable, the staff reliable.

She tried to keep her voice steady as she asked, “Who was asking, Harry? Did you let them in?”

Looking and sounding affronted, Harry said, “You know better than that, Dr. Kendall! No one gets by me without a valid visitor’s pass, and she didn’t have one.”

“Um, she?”

“Yeah. She seemed nice enough, but of course I couldn’t tell her anything, so she left.”

“And that’s all? What did she look like?”

“Yes, that was it. She was average height – not quite as tall as you, I’d say- reddish hair about to her shoulders, quite a pretty lady, now that I think on it.”

Susan’s mind was racing: Had Jennifer somehow managed to track them to Escondido? She knew how resourceful Jennifer could be, and doubted that she could have simply stayed quietly at home, waiting. No, she’d be out there, searching for her husband, putting her investigative reporting skills to good use. And if she’d managed to get as far as Escondido, Susan had no doubt that she must still be in the area. She certainly preferred that thought to the alternative, that it could have been someone – anyone - else.

Now, if she could just figure out how to find her. Suddenly, she remembered the vague feeling of recognition she’d had after running into the man in the café. Had she met him before? She wracked her brain, wondering, until a name popped into her head – Grey. Herman? No…Herschel – that was it! A police detective friend of Jonathan’s, they’d met at a party a couple years back at the Harts’ house. Yes, it could have been him…and who better to help Jennifer search than a detective? With a quick apology to the security guard, Susan hastily threw the car into reverse, turned around a bit recklessly and headed back for town. Maybe she could still catch them at the café.

*********

Jennifer and Herschel had made their plans for the day and stood up to leave when the door of the café opened and someone rushed in, clearly out of breath as she excused herself and looked around. They didn’t pay much attention until the woman approached them; then Jennifer looked up, the woman’s presence registering at the same moment she heard her say her name.

“Jennifer! Oh my god, you really _are_ here!”

“Susan?” Jennifer recovered first despite her initial shock upon seeing her friend. “Susan, where did you come from?”

Catching on, Herschel said, “Susan? Dr. Susan Kendall?”

She turned to him. “Detective Grey, am I right? I thought there was something familiar about you, so when the guard said someone was asking – I guessed it had to be you,” she said and held out her hand, which he took, “Anyway, I believe we met at the Harts’ holiday party a couple years ago.”

He nodded in acknowledgment, remembering her vaguely now, as Jennifer said, “Susan, please, tell me you’re helping him. That you’ve been with him all along…”

Susan squeezed her hand and answered her quickly, saying, “Yes, yes, Jennifer, of course I have. I’m so sorry I couldn’t tell you; that man of yours was so adamant, I was afraid he’d disappear if I...and then, well, I just hoped that you’d figure it out. But how did you come to be here, Jennifer? I went looking for you just yesterday – even slept on your couch last night, but you never came home.”

“We came down Friday night, so we could get an early start yesterday looking for Jonathan. Or rather, Jack Tobin – he _i_ _s_ Jack, isn’t he?”

Jennifer and Herschel both caught Susan’s surreptitious glance around the café, and the way she lowered her voice when she answered. “Yes, he’s Jack Tobin – Jennifer, I have no idea how you discovered that, but I don’t think I care! But no one else knows, do they?” Her concern about that point was clear.

Jennifer answered quickly, while wondering at her friend’s cautious, almost anxious demeanor. “No, no – I only figured it out a couple of days ago, and only Herschel and I know anything about it.”

Susan’s look of relief was obvious. Herschel noted it, but Jennifer was more concerned with getting to Jonathan now.

“Susan, please - where is he?” She looked at the door, clearly wanting to go, but Susan hesitated, and Jennifer turned back to her, her concern increasing rapidly. She paused, looking more closely now at her friend’s face as a new thought struck her. “Why now, Susan? You could have contacted me at any time. Why were you looking for me now, after all these weeks? What’s changed?” She was afraid she knew the answer, but she had to ask; she could see Susan’s expression changing as she chose her words with care and prepared herself for the reply.

Susan looked into her friend’s eyes and said, “Let’s talk for a few minutes, Jennifer, then I’ll take you to him, okay?”

Worry more visible in her eyes now, Jennifer just nodded and sat back down on the booth seat, Herschel sliding in next to her now and almost seeming to hover protectively, while Susan faced them both across the table. She reached for Jennifer’s hand and began talking in a rushed, quiet whisper.

“Actually, Jennifer, Jonathan’s not doing so well. He seemed okay in the beginning, and Brian and I are working night and day to find a solution, a cure, for him. I think we’re onto something, but in the meantime he has worsened and, well, I felt like time was maybe running out. I just couldn’t go along any more with his crazy idea that he was somehow protecting you by staying away.” She could see Jennifer’s opinion on that, matching her own assessment.

“I’m so sorry, Jennifer. I never wanted to deceive you. When I met him that day in San Clemente, I realized I couldn’t just give him his records and let him go off on his own. Then, I had to honor his wishes as my patient. But now, under the circumstances, I just couldn’t allow it to continue. He needs you, and, and…here you are,” she ended a bit lamely, knowing her explanation to be incomplete but not wanting to elaborate in such a public place.

Jennifer and Herschel could tell there was more, and that Susan was worried but seemed reluctant to talk about it. Herschel glanced at Jennifer and squeezed her other hand. Her concern was palpable though she said nothing, as if she was afraid to ask, so this time he did.

“So, ah, when you say he’s…not so well…what do you mean? Does he know you’re here – that you were looking for Jennifer?”

Susan turned to him, conveying in her look the truth she found so difficult to tell her friend. But Jennifer caught the look as well.

“Susan?”

“Jonathan’s condition has declined rapidly in the last week or so. He’s in a, ah, rather catatonic state most of the time now. I don’t believe he knows that I decided to contact you and bring you to him. But he needs you,” she repeated as she looked around, as if to make sure no one was eavesdropping on their conversation. Then she said, “Let’s get going, shall we? I’d rather discuss this further in private, and you need to see him. Did you come in your car? The Mercedes?” At Jennifer’s nod, she asked, “Where is it?”

“Around back, in the public lot.”

“Well, just leave it there for now – we’ll come back for it later. It’d be best for you to come with me in my car.”

They just nodded and silently got up to follow her outside. Jennifer was anxious but she felt prepared for what lay ahead. A part of her knew the burden she’d carried since finding Jonathan’s letter was about to be replaced with another, perhaps graver worry. But the prospect of being reunited with her husband, whatever his current condition, was all she could focus on.

“It’s only a few minutes from here,” Susan said. Her sense of urgency was pervasive now, and they walked quickly with her to her car.


	16. Chapter 16

**Hart’s Divine – Part Three**

**Chapter Sixteen**

_I have died every day waiting for you_ _  
__Darling, don't be afraid_ _  
__I have loved you for a thousand years_ _  
__I_ _'ll love you for a thousand more_ _  
__~_ _  
__Time stands still_ _  
__I will be brave_ _  
__I will not let anything take away_ _  
__W_ _hat's standing in front of me Every breath_ _  
__Every hour has come to this_ _  
__~_ _  
__And all along I believed I would find you_ _  
__Time has brought your heart to me_ _  
__I have loved you for a thousand years_ _  
__I_ _'ll love you for a thousand more_  
  


_\- Christina Perri, “A Thousand Years”_

*********

When they got to the center, Susan made their status as approved visitors known at the security office, so they’d be able to come and go in the future without question. She had Jennifer sign in using her new, assumed name – Jennifer Tobin. Then they proceeded to the small parking lot inside the gate and made their way to the bungalow.

Susan stopped before reaching the bungalow. “Jennifer, Herschel, nobody here knows Jonathan’s true identity – no one. Not even his nurse. It’s prudent to keep it that way, for many reasons, so remember – he’s Jack now.” They nodded in agreement and continued their way up to the door.

Franklin looked up, surprised and wary, when he heard the sound of multiple footsteps approaching. Dr. Kendall hadn’t said anything about visitors, or explained her mission to the city the day before, and he hadn’t expected Dr. Pierson to return so soon, either. He rose and went to meet whoever was at the door, cautious and wondering how he should handle it; Dr. Kendall’s instructions regarding the privacy of their patient’s existence here were explicit. He was relieved to see her when he opened the door, and even before she introduced her companions, Franklin knew that the beautiful woman with her was the subject of his patient’s dreams.

As they entered Susan asked, “How is he today? Did he have a good night?”

“He’s about the same, Dr. Kendall.”

Susan nodded in acknowledgement. “Let me introduce you – this is Franklin, who’s been an invaluable help to us…”

Jennifer reached to shake his hand as he said warmly, “And you must be Mrs. Tobin - I recognize you from the pictures.” If he wondered where she’d been all this time, he kept the thought to himself.

“And this is a friend, Mr. Grey. They’re welcome at any time, and security has been made aware of that. Otherwise our security precautions remain the same. But you must need a break, Franklin. Take as long as you need, okay?” He just nodded his thanks, saying he’d return later that evening, and made his way out.

Jennifer and Herschel followed Susan as she made her way toward the bedroom. They stopped at the doorway, taking in the scene before them, focused on the lone occupant of the room. Jonathan was dressed and sitting in the chair by the window, looking out at the hospital grounds. To all outward appearances he looked okay. He didn’t look up, however, as Susan crossed the room to his side, and they realized that he seemed to be staring into space, as if unaware…vacant. Jennifer’s heart lurched, but she only hesitated a moment before following Susan to his side. Herschel backed out of the doorway, retreating to wait in the main room of the bungalow.

Jennifer knelt silently by the chair and took her husband’s hand as Susan proceeded to satisfy herself that her patient’s condition was unchanged. If no better, neither was he any worse than when she’d left the day before. Jennifer just looked on as Susan attended to her patient and then spoke softly to him, watching his face intently for any reaction.

“Jonathan, I told you the other day that I’d made a decision, and that you could no longer object. We’re still working on a cure for you, but in the meantime, if anyone can get through to you, it’s your wife. She was practically on our doorstep anyway, by the time I found her. So, you see, it was inevitable.” She smiled then and looked at Jennifer, who glanced at her as she went on.

“Jennifer, take all the time you want, but then we need to talk. I’ll be in the other room when you’re ready.” Jennifer looked back at Jonathan, who still sat unmoving.

“Do you think he knows I’m here?”

“I honestly can’t tell you. But my hope is that he’ll somehow be able to sense your presence, so just give it a try, okay?”

Jennifer simply nodded, not looking away from him this time, and Susan paused at the door to glance back at them. It relieved her to no end to see them together, as they should be, and she felt at least some of the weight lifting from her shoulders. She closed the door softly behind her.

Jennifer moved to kneel in front of her husband, reaching up to run her hand up and down his arm.

“Darling?” He remained immobile as she whispered his real name. “Jonathan, I’m here. I found you, and I’m here now.” The blank look in his eyes scared her, and she felt desperate to connect with him, any way she could. She didn’t know what else to say, so she ran her fingers up his arm again then leaned forward to hug him. He didn’t move; he sat like a stone, expressionless. She put her hands on either side of his face and kissed his lips, a chill running through her now at his total lack of response to her presence.

The blankness in his expression, his usual presence and vitality missing, wrenched her heart and she wondered if he was already gone from her forever. Had she missed her last chance to talk with him, to tell him everything that was in her heart? Her grief, and anger, at the thought made her feel ill, and she squeezed his hands tightly, bowing her head down over their entwined hands, a sob escaping her lips. Tears in her eyes, she looked up and peered into his face, looking for any signs of recognition, of life, in them. But she couldn’t tell, couldn’t quite recognize him in that stare, that gaze at nothingness. It was so like the blank looks she’d seen in him before, only amplified, that for a moment despair nearly overwhelmed her.

“No,” she said aloud, shaking her head and blinking her tears away, unwilling to go down that path. “That isn’t how it’s going to be.” He _was_ in there, and he _would_ hear her, she vowed – no matter what it took. She would not lose hope now, when she’d finally found him. “I found you, Jonathan. You’re not lost anymore. Somehow I’ll make a path for you to follow, so you can come back to me. I’m here now, and I won’t give up on you,” she whispered.

Finally, Jennifer rose reluctantly, preparing to go back to the living room. She had so many questions for Susan. But she paused, leaning over to press her cheek against his and to whisper in his ear, assuring him that she wouldn’t be far away, that she’d be back soon. Then she kissed his cheek and turned to leave the room.

*********

Herschel was looking out a window but turned when he heard the door opening. He and Susan regarded each other for a moment, then sat down to talk, each knowing there was much ground to over.

“So, Detective- ”

“Please, it’s Herschel. Besides, I’m here as a friend, anyway.”

“I’m glad she’s had one she could trust to help her.”

“It appears that she, and Jonathan, have another as well. I know what a relief it is for her to know he hasn’t been facing this alone.”

“How has she been, Herschel? It looks like she’s lost weight.”

He nodded. “Yeah, she’s been pushing herself too hard, taking over for him in the office as well as searching. She hasn’t been taking proper care of herself. I’ve done what I can to encourage her to - ” but he stopped as Susan latched onto something he said.

“Hart Industries? What do you mean?” Susan asked quietly.

“He, uh, transferred a rather large quantity of stock into her name. Combined with what she already owned herself, it was enough to make her the CEO. You weren’t aware of that? It’s been in the news.”

Susan just shook her head. “We don’t watch the news, these days, and he never mentioned it.” She could understand why he would have done it, if he’d been concerned about his deteriorating condition. And she was sure she understood how Jennifer probably felt about it, too. No wonder she looked exhausted.

Thinking it best to leave talk about Jonathan’s condition until Jennifer had rejoined them, Susan asked Herschel to update her on what they’d been doing and how their search had led to Jack Tobin and Escondido.

Susan and Herschel were still deep in conversation when Jennifer came out of the bedroom. They both looked up, and Herschel rose and went to meet her, putting his hands on her arms. “How is he?”

When she gave him a half-hearted smile and shrugged, he went on, “How are _you_?”

“Okay, Herschel – I’m okay,” she said, taking a deep breath and putting on a brave face.

They turned, his arm lightly around her shoulders as he walked with her to the couch. Susan sat in a chair next to them, her expression one of sympathy and remorse.

“Jennifer, I’m so sorry - ” she began, but stopped when Jennifer reached to take her hand.

“No, Susan – don’t apologize for anything. I’m just so glad you’ve been with him.”

“Herschel’s been updating me on what’s been going on at home, Jennifer. Now that you’re here, though, there are some things you need to know.”

Jennifer nodded with a glance at Herschel, grateful for his presence and support, and simply waited for Susan to continue.

“As I mentioned before, he’s mostly in a catatonic state now, although he still has moments when he comes out of it. Those times have become far less common, and they can be brief, but I want to believe he’s still in there. He just can’t always make it out of whatever dreamlike state he’s in, I think. Brian – Dr. Pierson - and I recently found a substance, a chemical, in his blood. We’ve had trouble identifying it. Meanwhile, I’ve controlled everything about his existence here, everything – yet this substance has been increasing in the last several days.”

“What can be done?” Herschel asked.

“We don’t know yet. There’s nothing like this in the literature, nothing that can be explained.” Susan stood up and began to pace the room, clearly more agitated now.

“This chemical substance - it shouldn’t be there. There doesn’t seem to be anything natural about it.”

Looking away from the bedroom door where her eyes had strayed while her friend was talking, Jennifer focused on her again. “What are you saying?”

Susan hesitated. “What I’m saying is that this doesn’t appear to be some routine, if undiagnosed, illness, or a neurological condition.” Susan could see that they didn’t really understand her meaning, and so clarified further, moving back to her seat next to Jennifer. 

“I’m also saying,” she went on quietly, finally voicing her suspicions aloud, “That I think this was done _to_ him, intentionally. I just can’t discover how, or exactly what it is, and I certainly don’t know why.”

Susan’s own concern and fear for her patient, and her frustration at their failures so far, were coming across loudly now to her audience. Jennifer and Herschel appeared stymied. Neither had ever considered this could be anything other than a medical condition to be diagnosed and treated.

Susan continued, almost as if she were thinking out loud. “As for its effect on him, this stuff is somehow robbing him of his ability to control his emotions; at least I think it’s tied to emotion. It appears to exaggerate it, in ways he can’t control or contain. It could just be a side effect, and we don’t know yet in what other ways it could be harming him.”

She turned to Jennifer again. “You said he was unusually stressed, in ways that weren’t normal for him – isn’t that right?”

Jennifer just nodded, her mind on his demonstration of other emotional states that had perhaps been heightened, exacerbated. She hadn’t considered it in that particular light before.

Susan went on, saying, “It’s definitely affecting his brain somehow, causing the symptoms you’ve witnessed, the dramatic responses to things: the anger and irritability over work issues, the panic attack at the cabin, his stubbornness and determination when he decided to leave. But once he got here and time passed with no answers, it was other things. He got despondent, perhaps despairing, I think, although he didn’t express it openly. As he became more and more depressed, he withdrew, and it turned into this catatonia. I think he’s felt your absence keenly, perhaps regretted his decision to leave. He has a regular dream, a nightmare – he described it to me once. There was a forest, and a dark fog, and you were there, but unreachable.”

Jennifer felt a chill from her description of the dream - it so perfectly mirrored the sense she’d had about being unable to reach him, to feel his presence. It was an appropriate metaphor, this dark fog of his; the eerie familiarity of it made her wonder if it had been the stuff of her nightmares, too. But she couldn’t really recall hers; if he was living in his, could she help him find his way back?

Susan looked away from her for a moment, then burst out, “I just don’t know, Jennifer, I still don’t know what’s happening to him, and I’m so, so sorry! I don’t know what damage this substance is causing, or if it will be permanent. It could be. That’s why I had to bring you here. I _had_ to.”

Jennifer hugged her tightly, as much to assuage her own fear and grief at Susan’s words as to try to reassure her friend. “I’m so sorry, Jennifer,” she whispered again.

“Susan, stop, please. It will be okay. It has to be. Besides, where would he be right now if you hadn’t gone with him?” The thought caused another chill to run up her spine. “I know you’re doing everything you can for him, and I can’t tell you how much that means to me - no matter what the outcome is.” She looked solemnly into her friend’s eyes. Each wanted to reassure the other that Jonathan really would come through this. Susan couldn’t help wondering, again, if they’d been right to come here, to keep everything a secret. Would he have been better off at home or in a real hospital? In any case, she was certain Jennifer should have been at his side all along.

Herschel had been sitting there ruminating on a variety of new insights and implications of the situation. Finally, he spoke up, breaking the mood in the room. “Can you trust Franklin?”

Surprised at the swift change of focus, Susan responded, “I believe so. He was cleared by the center, and he’s never given me a reason not to trust him. Once we moved into this bungalow – we had separate ones before - his help became invaluable…”

“Why did you move?” Jennifer asked.

“Jack began wandering off, at night in particular, in one of his dream-states, for lack of a better word. He wouldn’t remember them later. I don’t know how I would’ve managed without Franklin. He helps me keep an eye on him, especially when I’m with Brian or in the lab. Also, he just manages his care better than I could.”

Jennifer found that comment a bit unnerving, and had to consider exactly what that meant. It shed a new light on how serious his situation truly was, and she was glad Susan had found help when she needed it. But an irrational part of her was jealous - it should have been her there instead, taking care of her husband. Well, now it would be.

Breathing slowly and deeply, Jennifer let go of her former anxiety. She felt stronger, now that she was with him again and aware of what they were up against, and resolute in her determination to do whatever was necessary to help her husband get well.

Herschel spoke again, interrupting her thoughts. “Well, when I get back to L.A., if you don’t mind I think I’ll run my own background check on him, just to be sure.”

“If you think it’s a good idea,” Susan agreed, and while she didn’t feel it was truly necessary, she supposed they’d all rest more easily to know more about him.

Jennifer agreed, standing up and turning to Susan, who joined her.

“Thank you, Susan, truly, for all you’ve done for him, for staying and helping when there was no one else. I hoped all along that you were with him, and I’m grateful that you were.” She hugged her, then turned to go back to Jonathan’s room. Susan felt tears stinging her eyes at her friend’s acceptance and faith in her. She sincerely hoped that Jennifer’s trust in her hadn’t been misplaced.

Jennifer closed the door and settled in again by her husband’s side. Not quite sure what to do, she began talking to him softly, telling him how much she loved him, and anything and everything that came to her mind. She didn’t know what the future held for them, but she was determined to do everything in her power to reach him through the fog of his nightmares and let him know he was no longer lost.


	17. Chapter 17

_Through the rainstorm came sanctuary_ _  
__And I felt my spirit fly_ _  
__I had found all my reality_ _  
__I realize what it takes_ _  
  
_

_I need love, love's divine_ _  
__P_ _l_ _e_ _ase forgive me now_ _  
__I see that I've been blind_ _  
__G_ _iv_ _e me love, love is what I need_ _  
__To help me know my name_  
  


_\- Seal, “Love’s Divine”_

*********

Once again Jonathan thought he was sitting in a chair facing the sunlight, and could hear muffled voices around him. He strained to hear them, annoyed that they sounded so far away, as if echoing at the end of a long tunnel; he could barely make them out. One voice seemed new, yet so familiar – but much as his heart longed for it, he knew it was impossible. It made him doubt that he was awake. On one hand he sensed the voices, and the sunlight…on the other, he imagined he could feel _her_ presence, something that in his new existence could only be memory or dream.

He seemed to vaguely recall a similar sensation of someone new being with him. But it had been a man’s voice that time, unknown to him, he thought. That only confirmed for him that it must have been a dream, just as this now had to be. Susan, bless her, had steadfastly, if reluctantly, respected his request, and she knew the risks of anyone knowing where they were. In a rather detached, clinical way, he understood that he could no longer tell the difference between reality and a dream. But how he wanted this sensation, this time, to be real – he so wanted _her_ to be real.

*********

Jennifer looked up when she heard a light knock on the door and Susan came in.

“Jennifer, Franklin is back with dinner from the cafeteria.” Jennifer reluctantly nodded her assent, looking back at her husband.

“I didn’t realize it had gotten so late,” Jennifer said, loathe to leave Jonathan, and wanting to help him herself. Glancing back to him, she started to say, “I can - ”

Susan placed her hand on Jennifer’s arm. “I know you can, and you want to, Jennifer,” she said gently, “but Franklin has developed a routine that works for them. Besides, you need to eat – don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re not taking proper care of yourself.”

Jennifer glanced away, trying to ignore Susan’s last comment. “I want to – I need to be here.”

“I know. I do. But for now, let’s let Franklin do his job. You’ll figure things out as we go, okay?”

Again she just nodded reluctantly, unable to argue with Susan’s logic and, truth be told, suddenly feeling a bit hungry. She leaned down to whisper in his ear that she’d be back, and followed Susan out to the living room where Herschel was waiting. Franklin smiled at her as he passed by on his way to Jack’s room.

“Jennifer, after dinner I think I’ll head back to LA. Susan and I have been talking and we don’t think your car should stay here – even in town – it’s too identifiable with those plates.”

“Do you think there’s a real threat to him?”

“Well, I don’t know. But better safe than sorry, wouldn’t you agree? And in any case, I’d like to follow up on some of the things we discussed earlier.”

“Okay, Herschel,” Jennifer acquiesced, seeing the logic in their plan. “While you’re there, would you mind checking in with Marcus and Deanne to let them know I won’t be in to the office for a while?”

“Sure. But ah, what do you want me to tell them? How much do they know? With all the rumors floating around, I think it’d be wise to keep some distance between Jack and the company, but another ally or two couldn’t hurt, if you think we can trust them.”

“Well, I haven’t discussed J– ah, Jack’s - situation with anyone else, Herschel, and I don’t see the need to yet. But Marcus and Deanne are completely loyal to the company and to Jack, and to me as well, I believe.” The fact that she stopped there and didn’t elaborate, didn’t list anyone else, somehow let Herschel know that while wanting to discount the concerns he’d had about the rumors, she had at least heard them and was now giving it all more careful consideration. He felt relieved to know it.

“I can take you back into town, Herschel,” Susan offered, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. 

“That’d be fine – we’ll go by the hotel and you could pick up Jennifer’s things.”

Susan simply nodded in agreement. When they’d finished and their plans were complete, Jennifer gave Herschel the hotel room key as well as her own keys and the security codes for the gate and house. Then she hugged him, silently thanking him again for helping her find Jonathan. He accepted the hug a bit awkwardly, patting her back, while assuring her he’d return soon.

After they left, Jennifer waited a bit restlessly in the living room until Franklin came out. He could tell she was anxious to get back to Jack, which only made her absence to date all the more perplexing. But he thought about the photos on the nightstand, and about Mr. Tobin’s dreams, how he woke calling her name. So he looked at her kindly and said, “He’s ready for bed…if you guide him by the arm, he’ll go…”

She nodded and said a bit nervously, “I’m sure we can, ah, figure it out. Thanks, Franklin – for, for everything.”

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Tobin. I’ll be in the little office if you need anything,” he said, to which she just nodded, closing the door after him.

She turned to Jonathan, who was again sitting in the chair, staring blankly into space. It broke her heart, but rather than dwell on it, she went and sat beside him again and talked, stroking his arm or holding his hand as she did so. His immobility and lack of response were disheartening but she preferred to focus on the fact that they had found him. Their attention could now turn to helping him recover.

Finally, feeling wiped out, she took his arm and pulled on it gently, encouraging him to stand, and led him to the bed. She pulled the covers back and when he sat down on the edge of the bed, she helped him lie down, then removed his slippers and lifted his legs into the bed, pulling the covers over him. She went around to the other side, kicked off her shoes and got into bed with him. There wasn’t a lot of room, but she simply got as close as she could, pressing her body close and entwining her leg with his. She lifted his arm up and wrapped it around her so she could rest her head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. It was steady and rhythmic, which relieved and soothed her greatly, and it soon lulled her into a deep, exhausted sleep. Her fingers, however, kept their grip on his pajama top, not wanting to let go even in slumber.

*********

When Susan returned, she knocked lightly on the bedroom door. Getting no response, she cracked the door and, taking in the scene, entered quietly, setting Jennifer’s overnight bag down inside the door. She peered closely at Jonathan and saw nothing to alarm her. He appeared to be resting comfortably. Jennifer was deeply asleep, her cheek resting over his heart, her hand on his chest. Susan wondered how long it had been since she’d slept so soundly. She pulled the covers back into place over them, then retreated to the door, turning to watch them for another long moment while feeling almost as if she were intruding. Finally, she turned to go, silently wishing them a peaceful, restful night.

Franklin was in the living room as she came out and asked after his patient.

“He’s sleeping quietly,” Susan answered.

“If you don’t mind me saying, Dr. Kendall, Mrs. Tobin seems to care for him a great deal. So where has she been?”

Figuring there was no need to hide certain things from him now, Susan said, “She does care, of course – as much as he cares for her. He thought he was protecting her by coming away, by leaving. Ultimately he’s my patient and I had to respect his wishes, even if I didn’t understand them fully. But now…well, let’s just say, as his doctor, I no longer felt it best.”

Franklin nodded. “You’re worried that he won’t recover?”

But Susan didn’t want to acknowledge such an idea, even to Franklin, who’d been there and seen all of it. She turned away. He felt awkward, having raised the question. “Well, I’m sure you and Dr. Pierson will figure it out, whatever it is.”

“Thank you, Franklin,” she said quietly, looking at him again. “I certainly hope so.” 

They parted ways, both headed for some much needed downtime of their own.

*********

_J_ _o_ _nathan was in the woods again, the cloying mist surrounding him, choking him, as usual. He peered through the trees, wondering how long it would be this time. It seemed his journeys there grew ever more lengthy, when all he wanted was for her search to be over, and to get out of this infernal forest with her. How he hated it here, hated watching her get farther and farther away from him, hated feeling like all hope was lost, stuck here in this black fog that stranded him and clogged his senses. He wanted only to get out of these trees and back to the real world_ _–_ _t_ _heir world._

 _There she was at last – he could see her now through the trees, still searching, peering around every trunk. He tried to move toward her, as he_ _always did, but as expected by now, was unable to do so. He closed his eyes in frustration and despair. Would he truly never see her or touch her, never feel her lips on his again?_

_Suddenly, he sensed something different nearby. So he opened his eyes, peering through the inky darkness, but saw nothing. Then it was as though a cool breeze was blowing through the fog – it swirled and coalesced, as it had before, but it seemed thinner, somehow, too. His heart leapt as he saw her unmistakable shape coming toward him through the mist, getting closer and closer. The fog parted as the vision of her drew nearer; she’d never appeared so close before. She had always been retreating, always looking the wrong way as she searched – but not this time._

_At last he knew she’d seen him because she began running, her lips moving. He couldn’t hear but knew she was calling his name. Then she was stopping before him, joy and relief on her face, tears in her eyes. She ran her hands up and down his arms to verify that he was really there in front of her, and he thought he could almost make out the sound of her voice as she said his name again. He tried to let her know he heard her, saw her; he said it with his eyes even as his lips struggled to form the words that were in his heart._

_Fi_ _nally, with great effort, feeling as though he were moving in slow motion, he managed to hold his arms out to her and she stepped into his embrace. At last, he could feel her body pressed against his own again, even if it was only in a dream. He began to feel stronger, to think that perhaps he could push the fog away and escape this dark forest that had trapped him for so long. He took a slow, deep breath as the fog thinned, finally able to whisper her name._

_“_ _J_ _e_ _nnifer.”_

*********

Jonathan felt himself waking slowly this time, rather than suddenly, as he usually did after the nightmare struck. He seemed to be lingering in that limbo of time and space that came between sleeping and waking. For once, he didn’t want to leave the dream that had so suddenly taken a turn away from the nightmarish to the divine. His eyes still closed, he tried to hold on to that moment in the dream when she’d turned toward him and looked into his eyes, when she’d stepped into his embrace and he could at last feel her in his arms again. It felt perfect, even if it was only a dream.

Even the familiar scent of her hair could be had there…how he’d missed it, especially when they were alone together at night and she was lying next to him. The emotions it stirred hit him forcefully. He marveled at the power of a dream to bring even that to his mind, so that it felt entirely real even as the dream itself was fading away.

But then as he felt consciousness returning, he realized that not only could he still smell the familiar fragrance of her hair, but that there was something, a weight of some kind, pressing on his chest, almost as if she was really here with him, in the real world. Afraid to open his eyes and lose this new sensation, wanting to cling to it at all costs, he instead began exploring with his hands, and the impression of someone’s presence, of _her_ presence, grew stronger.

“Jennifer?” he whispered.

Jennifer had slept soundly, but even so had been very attuned to his movements, or lack thereof, during the night. Now the sound of his voice, even his soft whisper, and the feel of his hands beginning to roam over her arms and back brought her wide awake and she propped herself up to look at him, holding her breath. His eyes were closed, his brow a bit furrowed.

“Jonathan?” she whispered softly, hoping beyond hope that she was right, that he was awake.

Jonathan knew he’d heard her speak his name this time, felt her move. His voice was gruff with emotion as he whispered his reply.

“Please, convince me that you’re real. I don’t think I could bear it if you’re not.”

“Yes, Darling, yes – I’m here, and I promise you I’m very real.” She leaned in to kiss his lips, tears springing to her eyes when he kissed her back. When the kiss ended and they drew apart, she searched his face as he opened his eyes, reached out to caress his cheek.

The gray world that usually filled his waking hours had been banished, replaced with the most precious reality he could have wished for. At least for the moment he was awake and clear-headed, and most definitely not alone. For the first time in he didn’t know how long, he felt present in the world again, and the sight that greeted him brought tears to his eyes. Jennifer was here, and she was real.

“I found you,” she whispered, as though she didn’t quite believe it, either. She continued to stare deeply into his blue eyes, her hand still caressing him, roaming over him, reassuring herself that he, too, was really there.

“I’m glad,” he admitted softly.

She hugged him, her head coming to rest on his chest again. He held her close, stroking her hair and her back.

“I should get Susan,” Jennifer said after a minute, glancing up at him, but he shook his head.

“Please, Darling – not yet. I, ah, never know how long it’ll last, and I’m afraid calling her in won’t change anything. Right now I just want to look at you, hold you, feel you in my arms again…I don’t want to lose a single moment with you. Please,” he said.

She just nodded, uncertain and wondering if she really ought to call Susan. But she gave in to his request, wanting every minute she could have with him, too. So she lay against him, listening to his heart beating, relishing the feel of his hand caressing her back, and thankful for this chance to connect with him, for however long it lasted.

After a few minutes, she raised her head again to look at him, and felt a pang of anxiety when his eyes were closed, even as his expression told her that he hadn’t left her. She took a calming breath as his blue eyes opened and found hers again. But then, even as she watched, she could tell something was happening.

Jonathan could feel the edges of his world going gray again. He hated this time worst of all, when he could feel consciousness, awareness, slipping through his fingers, and was powerless to do anything no matter how hard he fought against it. And this time, knowing that she was there with him, that his unspoken wish had somehow been granted, made the feeling of helplessness and loss even more acute.

‘ _Not now. Not yet!’_ he cried silently as he looked at her, trying to preserve this vision of her, hoping that even as the fog took him again he would remember, would _know_ , that she truly was there with him.

Jennifer could see that he was beginning to slip away from her. “Darling? Jonathan, please, don’t go!” she cried softly, reaching to caress his face, moving to kiss him, relieved when he kissed her back. She could see him struggling to remain with her, to fight off the darkness that awaited him.

“Jennifer, I love you, I love you,” he whispered, holding her more tightly as the grayness continued to encroach from all sides, tunneling his vision and pushing her farther and farther away. He focused on her face, her eyes, trying to stay, to remain connected with her as long as he could. Panic and an exceedingly painful heartache came over him as the grayness at last took over and he could no longer see her.

His senses were growing muted, one by one. Her voice was fading now, too, but even so it reached him through the murky gloom and he held on to the sound of it, held on to her words. They soothed him, calming his panic as the world retreated from him once again.

“Jonathan, I’m here – I’m not going anywhere. _I love you._ Please, Jonathan – stay with me!”

But he couldn’t obey her command, and finally her voice was distant and muffled. If he hadn’t known better, he wouldn’t have been able to tell that it was hers. Nor could he tell any longer that she was lying next to him, or feel her weight against his chest, the touch of her hands.

But before he could give her, and reality, up for lost again, he realized that he _could_ tell that she was still there beside him: He was certain he could still smell the scent of her hair.

Having found him against all odds, odds that he himself had set, he knew that she would not leave him now. So he’d do his best to have hope, to push back against the grayness and escape it again, so he could return to her. And he resolved that he wouldn’t be afraid, would no longer despair.

But Jennifer had never experienced anything so disturbing, so terrifying, as the sight of his leaving her in that moment. To watch it happen, to know how he had fought to remain with her and yet lost that battle, scared her more deeply than any of the other events that had occurred during his illness.

She kissed his lips again, heartbroken that he didn’t return it, but hoping he would sense it all the same.

Anguished tears falling now, she let the sobs come as she lowered her forehead to his chest, thankful that it still rose and fell as he breathed, that she could sense the steady beating of his heart. How long before even those signs of life left him? This time she tried unsuccessfully to banish such thoughts from her mind. She didn’t think she could bear it, didn’t know how she could survive without him, but neither could she avoid contemplating that terrifying possibility any longer. He was slipping away from her, and she was powerless to stop it.


	18. Chapter 18

_I had a dream last night_ _  
__[_ _I dreamt that I was swimming]_ _  
__And rusting far below me_ _  
__Battered hulls and broken hardships_ _  
__L_ _e_ _vi_ _athan and lonely_ _  
__I was thirsty so I drank_ _  
__And though it was salt water_ _  
__There was something ‘bout the way_ _  
__I_ _t tasted so familiar_ _  
  
_

_I had a dream last night_ _  
__And when I opened my eyes_ _  
__Your shoulder blade, your spine_ _  
__W_ _er_ _e shorelines in the moonlight_ _  
__New worlds for the weary_ _  
__New lands for the living_ _  
__I could make it if I tried_ _  
__I closed my eyes,_ _  
__I kept on swimming…_  
  


_-Josh Ritter, “Change of Time”_

*********

Susan knocked softly on the bedroom door, thinking she’d heard soft voices. One would have to be Jack’s. No one answered now, however, and she held her ear to the door. Now she thought she heard muffled crying and felt some alarm.

“Jennifer?” she called softly, knocking more loudly.

Inside, Jennifer raised her head and tried to pull herself together as she responded. “Yes, Susan – come in.”

Susan closed the door behind her, trying to evaluate what was going on. Jonathan looked about the same, but Jennifer was clearly upset. “What is it? What happened?”

“He woke up. For a few minutes, he was here,” she answered, her gaze shifting from Susan back to him.

“Oh, Jennifer,” was all she could think of to say. 

“I was going to call you in, but he wanted to wait. And he was right – we didn’t really have any time, anyway.”

Susan went around to her side of the bed and reached out to touch her arm. Of course she understood why they hadn’t called her, but she wanted whatever details Jennifer could give her.

“How was he?”

“He was himself,” she said, still looking at him, but then glanced at Susan, realizing she was asking for more detail about his condition. “He seemed good – alert, aware of himself, that he wasn’t dreaming.” _Convince me you’re real…._ His words echoed in her mind, but she had no doubt that he’d been truly present and aware, aware of her.

“How long did it last?”

“No more than five minutes – more like two or three, I’d say.” _Not enough._ She went on, “Then it was like I knew he would slip away, just seconds before it was happening. It was a, a horrible thing to watch, knowing I couldn’t help him, couldn’t do _anything_.”

Susan nodded in understanding, feeling her friend’s heartache mixing with her own very real concern, and the pressure that was mounting every day to find a cure, a solution.

“I know that must have been very hard, Jennifer, but I think it’s a good sign that he woke up, that he came out of it at all – it’s been a while since that happened. I’d like to think that your presence made the difference. If we can determine that it is, then somehow it might give us some clues about his illness, about the effects it’s having on him, and possibly hint at ways to control it. I’m not sure. But have some hope.”

Jennifer nodded and gave her a half-hearted smile, trying her best to be positive. And they _had_ spoken – she hadn’t missed that chance. She had to believe there would be others.

Suddenly feeling drained and in need of a break, she allowed Susan to talk her into using her room to get showered and changed while Franklin went through his morning routine with his patient. Later she let Susan cajole her into eating something, although her desire for food had fled her again.

When Franklin guided his patient into the room and to the couch, she rose to join him, and spent quite a while talking to him, reading to him, anything she could think of so he would still hear her voice, feel her touch and her presence beside him.

Finally, after reading to him that afternoon from a paperback novel she’d found on a bookshelf and wishing she’d brought some of her own reading material, she said, “Please, Darling, wake up. I don’t know if I can keep reading this, it’s so awful.” She smiled, feeling drowsy, and leaned to rest her head on his shoulder for a minute, sighing and trying not to be dismayed that he sat there, unmoving, again staring off into space. Just being with him again after so long brought her some measure of peace, and before she knew it, she’d dozed off, still resting against his shoulder.

*********

Knowing that Jennifer was there had bolstered Jonathan’s spirits, and even as his world had grown dim again, he had clung to that belief, that _fact,_ and it helped him believe that he could make it back to her again. So he’d fought against the grayness this time, rather than despair.

Now Jonathan blinked, taking in the room that had suddenly appeared. It startled him, how quickly he could be out of the fog and back in the real world, almost as though he’d been teleported there. He was a bit surprised to be in the living room of the bungalow. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been there. Then he realized that Jennifer was there, as he’d hoped. It _had_ been real, and not just a dream. But how long ago had that been? He had no way of knowing.

He glanced over and down at her, realizing that she was asleep against his shoulder in what had to be an awkward position for her. A paperback book was in her limp hand. He picked it up, saving her place, and looked at the cover. A pulpy novel, it wasn’t her usual fare, and he realized that she must have found it there and had perhaps been reading it to him. An amused smile came to his lips as he set it aside and reached for a large throw pillow to set in his lap. He gently lowered her onto it, glad when she didn’t wake up, not wanting to disturb her rest. He sighed quietly as she settled on the pillow, her knees bent and resting against the back of the couch. He reached down to lightly run his fingers along the edge of her face then through her hair, over and over, and she turned toward him, nestling close. He smiled.

As he continued to gently stroke her hair, he began to see other details he hadn’t noticed that morning: There were dark shadows under her eyes, and her face looked thinner. His gaze flickered over the rest of her body, sure that she _was_ thinner. A frown came to his face as he guessed the reason.

“Ah, Jennifer,” he whispered softly, regret tingeing his voice.

Susan entered the room at that moment, noticing immediately that Jennifer had vanished from view, and also that Jonathan wasn’t immobile. He was looking down, his arm moving slightly. As she came closer, she could see him gazing down at his wife, stroking her hair as she slept.

“Jack?” she said softly, and he looked up at her.

“Susan,” he responded, acknowledging her greeting.

“How are you feeling today?” she asked, trying to read him.

He shrugged a little. “I feel a little…fuzzy, I guess. But better.” The last came out softly as he looked down at his wife again. “How long has it been?”

“Well, I last spoke with you about a week ago,” Susan began, then went on with a small smile, “But I understand that you talked to Jennifer earlier today.”

Jonathan looked up at her now, his eyebrows going up and a light smile of his own coming to his lips. “That was this morning?”

“Mhmm.”

His gaze returned to his wife as he said softly, “I changed my mind, you know, about staying away. But by then I could no longer tell you. How did you know?”

Susan sat down in the chair closest to him. I didn’t. But I made the decision to bring her to you, anyway – even went to LA, spent the night on your couch waiting for her to come home. But she never did.”

“She said she found me.”

“Yes – at least, she was damn close When I was at your place, she was already in Escondido, searching for Jack Tobin.” He just smiled again as Susan went on, “She made it as far as the gate, where of course she was turned away. When I got back and heard someone had been looking for you, I realized – well, hoped, really - that it had been her. Somehow I managed to track them down at a café in town.”

“Them?”

“Yes – Herschel Grey’s been helping her. As a friend,” she assured him.

But he just looked back down at her and murmured, “Good choice.” In his heart he’d known she wouldn’t just sit at home, running Hart Industries and waiting for him to come back. Perhaps a part of him had even counted on it.

“Yes, Herschel has been a big help to her - to all of us, actually,” Susan said, thinking of the background check that he was currently pursuing, among other things.

Jennifer stirred now, and he looked down at her as her eyes opened. “Darling,” she whispered, and reached for his hand. “You’re back.”

“Mhmm. It seems I couldn’t stay away.” He smiled at her but, relieved as she was, the awful memory of his leaving that morning was still so fresh in her mind that she couldn’t muster a smile of her own. She simply looked solemnly back at him.

But Susan had latched onto his comment and asked, “What do you mean? How do you think you were you able to get back?”

“I don’t know,” he said slowly, thinking it over. “Somehow I just knew you were still with me,” he said, looking at Jennifer again, his fingers still stroking her hair, “So I guess I had a reason to fight.”

Jennifer simply reached up to caress his face, her eyes still gazing intently into his as his hand came to rest on her waist.

A moment later there was a knock on the door, and Jennifer sat up as Susan went to answer it.

“Jack!” Herschel said as he entered the room and saw Jonathan there. He came around the end of the couch, holding his hand out, which Jonathan gladly took. “How are you feeling?”

“Herschel, it’s good to see you. I guess I’m feeling okay, at the moment.” Everyone hesitated awkwardly, uncertain how to respond to that comment. Susan broke the silence.

“Jack, do you feel up to eating something?” At his nod, Susan went to ask Franklin to go to the cafeteria for Jack and Jennifer’s dinner; Herschel just shook his head when she asked if he wanted anything.

“Okay. I’m afraid I won’t be eating, either,” she said, explaining that she had a meeting with Dr. Pierson to get to and would eat with him. “Unless you’d rather I…” she began, torn and doubting the wisdom of leaving now, not wanting to miss any opportunity to observe his condition. But the others would be there and she knew she needed to consult with Brian.

“Go ahead, Susan, it’s important that you meet with him,” Jennifer offered. As Susan made her way out, Jennifer went on, “If you two will excuse me for a moment as well…?” But she, too, was hesitant to leave, even for the few moments if would take to run to the bathroom.

“Go on, Darling – I’ll be fine,” he said, understanding her hesitation but feeling somehow that he would still be there when she got back. She simply nodded and relinquished his hand, excusing herself again.

When they were alone, Jonathan rose with a glance at Herschel. It felt good to stretch his legs. He walked to the window and gazed out onto the lawn of the center grounds. Herschel joined him.

“So, ah, Herschel…what’s the date?”

Surprised at the question, he answered, wondering why he’d needed to ask. Jonathan simply nodded, and Herschel couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

“I don’t ask Susan anymore. I don’t have much of a sense of time these days, really, but I could see that it upset her, as if it reminded her that it was taking too long to ah…well,” he paused, “I watch the view, here, and I could guess….” But he stopped speaking and when he went on it was with a change of topic, as he looked out the window, then met his friend’s eye.

“Herschel, thank you. For everything you’ve done to help her.”

“Of course, Jonathan. It was nothing.”

“I doubt that very much,” Jonathan commented before looking at him a bit more intently and asking quietly, “How has she been?”

Herschel considered his friend for a moment before replying, deciding it would be best not to worry or stress him too much, and said only, “She’s managed.”

Jonathan nodded, understanding. “She’s lost some weight.”

“Mhmm,” he said, agreeing but unsure what more to say, when he saw Jonathan’s gaze flicker away then back to him, and he understood that Jennifer was returning and the subject was closed. Turning to include her, he said, “I ran a background check on Franklin.”

“Oh? Why?” Jonathan asked, a bit surprised to hear it.

“Well, we were given to understand by Susan that whatever’s happening to you may not be accidental, or even natural.” At his nod of understanding, Herschel went on, “We just thought it was best to cover all of our bases.”

Having joined them by the window, Jennifer slipped her arm through her husband’s as she responded. “And what did you find out?”

“Nothing. He’s clean as a whistle.” They all felt some relief at that, but it left many questions still unanswered and they remained silent, each lost in their own thoughts.

“Jennifer?” 

Something in Jonathan’s tone told her what was happening and she turned to look at him, her arm still linked through his. She took a deep breath, feeling more prepared this time, and tightened her grip on his arm. She motioned to Herschel, who went to his other side.

“Let’s get him into the chair,” she said and he just nodded, helping her and then backing off as she knelt in front of her husband. Then through the window he could see Franklin coming back from the cafeteria with their dinner trays and went to help him, glad to have something to do.

Jennifer looked anxiously into Jonathan’s eyes. He was clearly struggling to remain. She caressed his face and spoke softly, reassuring him.

“Darling, it’s okay, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” She leaned in close to him, gripping his hands now and staring intently into his eyes. “This time was better, and you will keep on getting better – I’m sure of it.”

He struggled to nod, to let her know that he heard her, believed her. “See you…soon,” he whispered, and with difficulty raised his hand to touch her cheek, making her smile as she reached up to wrap her fingers around his hand.

“Yes,” she whispered back, “You will.” She saw a flash of determination replace the sadness in his eyes before they lost their sparkle as he vanished again into his strange world of waking unconsciousness. She remained there with him, unable to leave his side. She felt as much loss as she had that morning, but realized that she also felt a bit more hope than she had before.

After a few minutes she looked up and saw Herschel and Franklin talking quietly across the room; she stood and went over to them. Herschel reached out to squeeze her arm and she gave him a brief smile.

“C’mon, Jennifer. Let Franklin check him out while you eat,” he said. Seeing her about to protest, he beat her to it, insisting, and she could see that he was not about to let her refuse. So she let him steer her to the table where she found that she actually had an appetite, after all, and managed to eat something of the dinner Franklin had brought.

Franklin asked Herschel to help him get Jack into the bedroom. Jennifer watched reluctantly, wanting to help, but Herschel indicated she was to stay put and she had to smile at his suddenly more pointed insistence. When he returned and sat down at the table with her, she could tell that there was something on his mind. She’d thought earlier that he looked distracted, preoccupied, but something in his expression had made her refrain from asking any questions at the time. But now the guarded look was gone and he appeared troubled. Jennifer knew whatever was on his mind was about to come out. She doubted that she really wanted to know, wondered how much more she could stand.

“I know this is bad timing, Jennifer, but there’s something I need to tell you.”

She just looked back at him but held her tongue, and waited for it to come.

“You, ah, need to come back to LA with me.”

“What? I can’t, Herschel – I can’t! Surely you can see that. I just promised him…”

He reached for her hands, squeezing them as he went on, “Yes, Jennifer, I do see, but all the same, hear me out.” He leaned closer and went on in a quiet whisper, glancing at the closed bedroom door. “There’s trouble at Hart Industries. Deanne has been trying to reach you. There’s going to be a takeover attempt – apparently from the inside.

“What?! Herschel, you can’t be serious - ” Jennifer was so shocked that her thoughts turned completely around to this new threat. She couldn’t help wondering if, or perhaps how, it was related to Jonathan’s mysterious illness. Was someone poisoning him to try to get the company? Had her taking over there been an unexpected complication? Whatever the motive for this attack, she knew it couldn’t be allowed to succeed.

“I know, but believe me, I am. From what I hear, Dick Eames, and possibly Stan Robertson, as well, has been stirring up the other members of the board. I witnessed it myself the other night at the party. Now he’s pulling together an emergency meeting, and Marcus thinks that he’s going to call for a vote of no confidence and try to oust you.”

“They can’t do that,” she said, and Herschel could see that while she was upset by this news, she still didn’t seem to grasp it for the true emergency it was – or perhaps was unwilling to.

“Jennifer, the meeting is tomorrow morning!”

Finally, the urgency of the matter registered. Her jaw dropped as she stared at him, then snapped shut again as she turned toward Jonathan’s room. Her heart refused to consider the idea of leaving, now that she had finally found him. But her mind recognized the severity of the problem at home. She knew she couldn’t let anything happen to the company. She had to preserve her husband’s legacy at Hart Industries, so it would be there for him to return to when he was well again. 

“Okay,” she whispered, resigned. “But I’m coming right back here after.”

“Of course. I’ll bring you back myself.”

Jennifer squeezed his hand, reassuring him that she understood the sacrifices he had been making, and continued to make, on their behalf.

“Don’t worry, Jennifer. They’re doing everything they can for him.”

“I know,” she replied, very aware of the sacrifices that Susan had made, as well. “I appreciate everything you both are doing for us, believe me. I won’t forget it.”

She rose and turned to go to Jonathan’s bedside, wanting to see him again before she left, to assure him that she would return. She didn’t suppose Jonathan would hear her words, but she had to believe he would understand, all the same. Somehow. Finally, when she was ready to go, she kissed his lips and reluctantly left his side.

As she closed the door behind her, she took a deep, resolute breath, preparing herself for another kind of battle, come morning.

*********

After a couple of weeks spent resolving his sister’s affairs, Max and his nephew, Doug, were on a trip around Europe, getting to know each other better and beginning to heal from their loss. They’d been to many places, just wandering with no definite plan, but Max knew the time was coming when they’d have to get back to the real world. Doug needed to return to his studies so he didn’t get too far behind, and Max had to get home, as well. He had called a couple times but failed to get through to anyone. So far he wasn’t worried. He hoped, busy as they were, that Mr. and Mrs. H were finding time to relax, as well. Their weekend at the cabin had been a good start, anyway.

Max and Doug had meandered their way around Europe, finally finding themselves in Italy, and had checked into a little pensión in Siena the evening before. Now, they were about to set out on their first day of exploring.

“Uncle Max, I forgot my camera – I’ll be right back!” Doug exclaimed as he dashed back up the steps to their room.

Max sighed and sat down in the lobby to wait, where a week-old copy of the Wall Street Journal caught his eye – he hadn’t seen a newspaper in English, let alone an American one, in some time. He reached for it and began flipping idly through the pages, glancing at the headlines. His eye landed on a familiar photograph, which was not odd in and of itself. But as the headline registered, alarm bells started going off in his head. He sat up, clutching the paper more tightly as a weird sensation, a total lack of understanding, came over him. Surely it couldn’t actually say what he thought it said, even though it _was_ in English. Could it?

 _“_ _New CEO of Hart Industries to host first public event,”_ the headline read, and the photo was of Mrs. H.

“What the - ?” Max rubbed his eyes, then quickly scanned the short article. It talked about the event for Hart Aerospace – he’d forgotten that had been coming up – and identified Mrs. H as the new CEO of the company. Max’s alarm grew exponentially when the article went on to refer to Jonathan Hart’s ‘mysterious disappearance,’ supposedly for ‘personal business.’ From the tone of the article, the author didn’t give that explanation much credence.

Max was so overcome with shock he just sat there for several seconds, immobilized. At last he snapped out of it and stood abruptly, going to the concierge desk.

“I need to make a call to the United States – it’s urgent.”

“Of course, sir. Shall we charge it to your room?”

“Yeah, that’ll be fine.”

Max waited impatiently while the phone rang repeatedly with no answer, and finally hung up in frustration. What was going on? Where was Mr. H, and why was Mrs. H now in charge of Hart Industries?

Doug came bounding down the steps and saw Max standing at the counter, a worried look on his face.

“Uncle Max? What’s the matter?”

“Doug, what would you say if I told you our visit to Siena has to be cut short?”

“Well,” Doug began thoughtfully, “I guess I’d say we’ve been very lucky to see as much of Italy as we have. But we can come back another time, right?”

“Yeah, right. There’s something I need to get home for, something to do with the Harts. It’s urgent.”

“Is anything wrong?” Doug understood that the Harts were Max’s family, too.

“Well, nothing you need to worry about. Besides, maybe you’d rather go back to school, instead of hanging out with your old uncle.”

“Well, I dunno about _that_ ,” Doug said.

“Don’t you like school?”

“It’s okay, I guess.”

“Well, trust me, you need it. And you don’t want to fall behind, do you? That’d mean summer school next year, ya know.”

“No way! I’ll work really hard to avoid that!”

“I thought so. I tell ya what. Give me a little time to make our travel arrangements, and we’ll leave tomorrow. That way, we can still see a little of Siena this afternoon. How does that sound?”

“That sounds fine, Uncle Max.”

“Thanks for understanding, Doug. You’re a pretty swell kid, you know that?”

“Yeah, well, you’re a pretty swell uncle.” Doug was quiet for a moment, then asked hesitantly, “What’s gonna happen to me when we get back home, Uncle Max?”

“I’ve been thinking about that, and I have some ideas – I think you’ll approve. I’ll fill you in on the way home, okay?”

“Sure, Uncle Max. Can I go outside and look around while you make the reservations?”

Nodding his permission, Max just said, “Stick close by.”

“Okay, I will.”

Max watched him go, then went back to the desk and tried to call home again. Still no answer. He looked at the date on the paper, noting that it was from the week before, and that the party had been on Friday. It was now Monday. Surely they oughta be home, right? He asked the concierge to dial the house again, frustrated that no one was answering, despite the fact that it had to be the middle of the night in Los Angeles. He knew there was no point in calling the office, but then in desperation thought, ‘ _why not?’_ and dialed the number anyway. But as expected, there was no one there to answer his call.

Growing anxious, he got the number of the airline from the pensión manager and began making their travel arrangements. As it was, it would take him a few days to get home, since he’d have to take Doug back first. Although he didn’t know it yet, Doug would be living with his best friend’s family to finish his last few years of school. They were happy to have him, and Max thought that would be the best, and least disruptive, thing for him right now. But he was hoping that Doug would choose to go to college on the West Coast. Max knew that his nephew would be okay, and his thoughts turned now to Mr. and Mrs. H, his concern for them moving strongly to the forefront. He _had_ to get home and find out what was going on.


	19. Chapter 19

_Li_ _fe can show no mercy_ _  
__I_ _t can tear your soul apart_ _  
__I_ _t can make you feel like you've gone crazy_ _  
__But you're not_ _  
__W_ _hen things have seemed to change_ _  
__There's one thing that's still the same_ _  
__I_ _n my heart you have remained_ _  
__And we can fly, fly, fly away_ _  
  
_

_'Cause you are not alone_ _  
__I_ _'m always there with you_ _  
__And we'll get lost together_ _  
__‘Til the light comes pouring through_ _  
__'Cause when you feel like you're done_ _  
__And the darkness has won_ _  
__Babe, you're not lost_ _  
__W_ _hen your world’s crashing down_ _  
__And you can't bear the thought_ _  
__I said, babe, you're not lost_   
  


_\- Michael Bubl_ _é_ _, “Lost”_

*********

Every mile of the journey back to Los Angeles was difficult for Jennifer; it felt like a betrayal to leave Jonathan now that she’d finally found him. But they arrived at last, and as she walked into the house she heard the phone ringing, but was unable to reach it in time. Shrugging, she set her overnight bag by the steps. She would pack immediately for a more extended stay in Escondido, intending to be in LA just long enough to check in with Marcus and Deanne in the morning and attend the meeting.

As she set her purse down on the table, she saw a piece of paper there and picked it up. It was the note Susan had left her. She grimaced a bit, given the circumstances under which Susan had finally felt compelled to go against Jonathan’s wishes and contact her. But then she sighed, knowing Susan had only done as her conscience and professional ethics required of her.

It was late and she was exhausted, but she decided that she’d better check in with Deanne right away and make sure she knew when the meeting was to be held. She crossed the foyer to the phone and dialed Deanne’s home number, despite the late hour. “Hello, Deanne - ?” she began, but was cut off almost immediately. There was an almost frantic note in Deanne’s voice.

“Oh, Mrs. Hart, thank goodness! I’ve been trying to reach you! There’s trouble…”

“I know, Deanne – I heard. I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch. I understand there’s going to be an emergency meeting of the board in the morning.”

“Yes, that Dick Eames convinced enough board members that it was necessary. I think Stan Robertson is going along. They want to discuss - ”

“I’m sure I can guess what they want to discuss. Damn it!” She cursed under her breath but Deanne heard it all the same. “What time is the meeting?”

“Eight o’clock. Marcus has been stalling them while we tried to reach you. He managed to put them off since the weekend, when Eames started clamoring for this meeting, but they finally got everyone together. Please, Mrs. Hart, tell me you’ll be here.”

“I wouldn’t dream of missing it, Deanne,” Jennifer replied grimly. “I’ll be in by seven. Can you let Marcus know? And please don’t alert anyone else. Just keep everything business as usual in the morning. I want my attendance to be a surprise.”

“Of course,” Deanne responded, her relief plain in her voice.

They said their goodbyes and Jennifer leaned against the little table for a moment. She wasn’t sure she was up to this particular challenge, but knew she would have to be. So she took a breath and went upstairs, not certain how she would manage to get some rest but knowing she had to be ready for this very untimely challenge, come morning.

*********

As Jennifer pulled the Rolls into her parking space at Hart Industries the next morning, she saw the Bartholomew’s Catering van in the loading zone and could guess why they were there. As she approached the building, Nick Bartholomew came around the end of the van. Pleased to see her, he smiled and held out his hand.

“Mrs. Hart, how nice to see you again.”

“Mr. Bartholomew. I trust all is well in the catering business.”

“Yes, indeed – although I must say, providing a breakfast buffet is a nice change of pace. And business is all the better, if I may say so, thanks to the gigs you and Hart Industries are giving us. ”

“You’re very kind to say so, although I know you must have many impressed clients.”

“Well, thank you.” He paused before going on in a bit of a rush, “I was wondering if you, ah, might be interested in a nice, quiet lunch sometime in my restaurant.”

Jennifer considered him for just a moment before responding, not sure how to read him but having a gut feeling, just as she had at the party, of what he was thinking. “Mr. Bartholomew, I’m very late, and I don’t know you very well. I know you haven’t actually met my husband, but you would do well to remember that I _am_ married – and very happily.”

Appearing flustered, the man backed up a step and said, “Oh, I’m sorry – I’d heard that he was gone, and, and I guess I thought - ”

“Well, you thought wrong.” She looked at him, getting a strange vibe and not sure why. But she went on to say, “I’m going to assume that your invitation is well-intended, and an attempt at friendship. Perhaps Jonathan and I will take you up on it sometime after he returns. Now if you’ll excuse me, I really must go.”

“Oh, of course. I’m sorry if you thought I was being im…” but he just stopped, feeling like an idiot as she walked away.

*********

Jennifer forgot about her encounter with Nick Bartholomew as she made her way up to the office, where Deanne met her with relief and ushered her into her office.

“Deanne, I’m so sorry I didn’t check in sooner. I’m afraid I wasn’t near a phone.”

“I’m just so glad you called, Mrs. Hart. We’re not sure what Dick Eames has up his sleeve, but Marcus is sure it’s nothing good.”

“I agree.”

“Mrs. Hart, I realize you might find this out of line, but, um, if you don’t mind my asking, did you happen to see Mr. Hart while you were away?”

Jennifer was more surprised by the fact that neither Deanne nor Marcus had asked the question before, in the several weeks since Jonathan had left so precipitously. That she would finally feel the need to do so now was interesting. “Why do you ask, Deanne?”

Looking flustered, Deanne answered, “Well, it’s just that, uh, some people have been talking – I noticed it at the party Friday night, in particular, and they’re saying simply awful things –not polite at all. I think people – well, the Board, mainly – are wondering about Mr. Hart’s absence, and your taking over…maybe they just need some reassurance.” Deanne watched her boss’s face as she stammered out her observations. She might have wondered, herself, if it hadn’t always been perfectly obvious to her how the Harts felt about each other. She simply couldn’t believe the rumors that seemed to be spreading.

Jennifer frowned. She hadn’t wanted to give credence to the rumors, either, but now it appeared she’d have to deal with them head-on. She considered her assistant, who looked like she regretted her question, and assured her, “It’s all right, Deanne. As a matter of fact, I was with Mr. Hart these last couple of days.” She turned away as she said it, not wanting Deanne to see her worry. “But I can’t say when he’ll be back; there’s still no way to know, unfortunately. The Board is just going to have to deal with that fact, and learn to deal with me.”

Deanne was perplexed by her comments, but relieved that she was there to attend the meeting and that she appeared more than ready to deal with a couple- _hopefully only a couple_ , she thought - of recalcitrant board members.

Jennifer gave her a few last-minute instructions and Deanne left, heading for the board room. Then Jennifer took a little time to try to center herself and focus on the meeting. She hadn’t slept well through the night, preoccupied with so many worries, a new one of which she couldn’t help returning to now: how to find Max and tell him about Mr. H. She really could have used his help and support over the past few weeks, but given the circumstances with his nephew, she had hesitated to reach out, to call him home when there was, essentially, no news to tell. No, she’d felt that Max hadn’t needed the additional worry.

However, now that Jonathan had been found, and was – she was forced to admit – markedly worse than before, she knew she could no longer delay. Max had to know. But as she had feared would be the case when she’d called, Doug’s relations on the East Coast weren’t sure where they were, either. They thought they were in Italy by now, perhaps Naples or Siena. But, they expected to hear from Doug in the next few days. Not completely satisfied, she had left a message to be relayed to Max to call home as soon as possible. Now, though, Jennifer knew that she had to turn her mind away from that new problem and focus on getting ready for the meeting.

*********

Deanne ran into Marcus at the door of the board room just as Nick Bartholomew was passing to set up the buffet table for the meeting.

“Marcus – she’s here!”

“Thank goodness for that. But it’s cutting things a little too close for comfort, don’t you think?”

“I’m just glad she’ll be able to set the Board straight on a few things. And, Marcus,” Deanne’s voice dropped to a whisper, “She’s been with Mr. Hart!”

That got Marcus’s attention. “She told you that?”

“Yes, well, I asked - ” At his shocked look she retorted, “I wanted to warn her about the rumors. _We_ know they’re baseless, but she needed to be prepared to handle questions about Mr. Hart.”

“Yes, she did, and it’s a relief to really know that they’re in contact. I’ve been wondering, and frankly, a little worried, about that. She’s been so close-lipped,” Marcus admitted. Looking up, they stopped speaking as the caterer exited the room, smiling at him as he left. Then they were distracted from their conversation as they greeted the board members as they began to file inside.

*********

Jennifer took a breath and headed for the board room, timing her arrival so the others would all be in place before she entered. As she neared the room, she could hear arguing from inside and paused by the door to listen. She recognized the voices of a couple of Hart’s more long-term board members in a heated debate with Dick Eames. But most of the voices were silent, choosing not to join the discussion and therefore leaving her with little more than guesses about where they stood.

“I don’t have any idea what their circumstances are. Everything is going quite smoothly, Dick, from what I can see, and I don’t know what you’re fussing about. You’re new here and perhaps can’t be expected to - ”

“Don’t make any excuses for me, about not being part of the Hart ‘family’ yet. I don’t care about that. I came here to work with Jonathan Hart, not his wife, who I’m sure is quite charming, but who has no business background - ”

“Oh, not that song and dance again, Dick. She’s doing very well. If you’d just look at these numbers - ” Marcus chimed in to say.

“She’s still riding the coattails of her husband’s decisions. Time will tell what kind of CEO she can be, and it’s my contention that she can’t possibly amount to much of one. She simply doesn’t have the background or the knowledge to carry it off successfully, in my opinion, and I don’t think that Hart Industries can take the risk of finding that out too late. I think now is the time to act, to do something - ”

Jennifer had heard enough, so she pushed the door open and walked in. Those sitting at the table rose quickly as she passed, their heads turning to follow her progress. Her expression was inscrutable and she looked formidable, smartly dressed in an expensive tailored suit, an ivory lace camisole peeking discreetly from between the suit’s lapels. The slit in the back of her pencil skirt made it possible to stride purposefully as she moved directly and pointedly to her place at the head of the table, where Dick Eames had to make room for her. Her four-inch Italian pumps clicked distinctly against the hardwood floor. Jennifer wasn’t a short woman, and her heels brought her height to eye-level, or in some cases, higher, than that of most of the Board – including, she was pleased to note, Dick Eames. 

When she reached the head of the table, she stood looking at the other board members gathered there, indicating that they should sit, even as she remained standing, trying to gauge their attitudes. Some met her eye, while a few looked away. Dick simply glared at her as she asked, “And what particular action are you recommending, Dick, that you did not see fit to inform me of?”

“It’s not my fault you disappeared and couldn’t be reached,” he began, sounding like a petulant schoolboy.

“Exactly how hard did you try?” she commented, but then moved on, her point made. The other board members exchanged glances, some beginning to look decidedly uncomfortable, and she wondered just what he’d told them to get them here. Looking around at the other board members, she went on, “Now apparently, the rest of you have enough concerns to warrant your attendance at this emergency meeting, so let’s get them out in to the open. I’ll answer them as best I can.”

She looked expectantly around the table; the others hesitated. Dick glowered at her, and Stan Robertson stared at her with an openly admiring look. Both annoyed her. Finally, Stan broke the ice. “Well, we all know that Dick, here, and I are the newest board members, and I’m sure he’ll agree that our biggest concern is what will happen to Hart Industries without Mr. Hart at the helm. No offense.”

She considered him, wondering to what extent he would cover for Dick, then answered graciously, “None taken. I’m sure that point is at the top of everyone’s list of concerns.” 

Marcus and a couple other board members protested, but she interrupted them. “No, it is a valid concern. Many of you have served on the Hart Industries board for many years, and know my husband well – very well, in fact. I hope you feel that you’ve gotten to know me equally as well since Jonathan and I were married. I also hope that familiarity helps you feel more at ease with this situation.” She looked again at Dick and Stan. “You haven’t had the advantage of time to get to know me before being asked to accept me as the head of Hart Industries. I know it isn’t what you expected when you agreed to be considered for your board positions. I can only assure you, and I think there are people in this room who can attest to it - ” Jennifer was pleased to see some nods as she continued, “That I am quite familiar with and understand this company and my husband’s business philosophy very well…Well enough to keep Hart Industries on its own true path during his absence, with the assistance of its very capable, and highly valued board, executives, and staff.”

“Bravo, Mrs. Hart. There’s no doubt you have a knack for public speaking. How well you understand the company remains to be seen - ”

“She understands it much better than you ever will, Dick,” Marcus began with some heat, but Jennifer held up her hand and he fell silent, still glaring at Dick, who’d kept talking through Marcus’s interruption.

“ – and what about Mr. Hart’s absence, anyway? Where is he, exactly?”

Her patience with Richard Eames already at a low point, Jennifer tried to rein in her irritation. “To address your first statement, if you had actually reviewed my credentials, Mr. Eames, instead of focusing on my marital status, you’d know that I am familiar with the business world, predating and independent of my marriage. As for your question regarding my husband’s whereabouts, that, in fact, is not the business of the Board.”

“I beg to differ. He’s the founder and lifeblood of - ”

Jennifer, her ire at this twerp’s presumption mounting, nonetheless again managed to maintain her cool as she looked icily back at him. “That is most definitely true – and no one knows better than I what my husband has done, what he had to accomplish in order to make Hart Industries what it is today. But he is no longer the CEO of Hart Industries. I am. He passed that responsibility on to me and I take that much more seriously than any of you can possibly know. I assure you, I will not shirk those responsibilities. I’ll do whatever is necessary to protect this company, and to continue its operation according to the values and practices established by my husband.”

As she finished, Jennifer looked around the table, trying to catch reactions to her words. She thought them to be mixed, but felt optimistic that many were approving.

Dick Eames spoke up again, still not satisfied with her answers. “Yes, yes, that’s all well and good,” he said with poor grace, “We all know the circumstances we’re in. You’re not gonna tell us where he is, then fine. But when will he return?”

“I can only say, as I have before, that he’ll return as soon as he’s able. The unique nature of his personal business makes this difficult to predict, which is why he took the seemingly drastic step of giving me a controlling interest and therefore the role of CEO of this company.”

“How do we know what you’re telling us is the truth?” asked one of the other board members, who’d remained silent throughout Dick Eames’ rant.

“You have only my word on the matter, Flora. You, all of you, will have to decide whether or not you can accept it.” She paused now, her gaze sweeping around the faces at the table. “I am asking for, and frankly expecting, your support during this interim period. Allow me to show you that I am not simply enjoying a favorable ride on Jonathan Hart’s coattails,” she said, her eyebrow arching sharply as she looked straight at Dick Eames, who at least had enough grace to turn pink, “And then, if you truly feel you cannot give me the same support and respect that you have so willingly given my husband, I will have no choice but to reluctantly accept your resignations.”

There was a moment of silence as they all looked at her, some with surprise or awe, others with growing respect, as she finally sat down. Dick Eames looked dubious but kept his mouth shut, aware that he had lost this round, and that it would be even more difficult to carry out another sneak attack now. Marcus was beaming, as was Deanne, who sat quietly off to the side, taking down the minutes for the meeting.

“Now, I recommend that we take advantage of the no doubt excellent breakfast we have waiting for us,” Jennifer said, nodding toward the table in the corner where the buffet was laid out, “And then we can discuss any particular questions you might have about how Hart Industries is faring right now.”

They nodded their assent, and she hoped, their approval, and one by one they began heading for the buffet table. Jennifer waited to go last, taking the time to calm the mass of turmoil inside her. She thought she had managed to maintain and/or sway the favor of enough of the board to stave off any drastic actions on their part…for now, at least.

Oh, she felt certain enough in her knowledge and understanding of Hart Industries, and her confidence and comfort level was growing daily. But she also knew, as the others suspected, that she did not have Jonathan’s level of expertise nor his particular business savvy – the very stuff, indefinable as it was, that had made him so successful and which she so admired in him.

She repressed a sigh, carefully maintaining an outward demeanor of calm confidence in front of this group, while fervently hoping that she truly only needed to buy time until Jonathan could return. Given his condition, however, she was still uncertain just what the future would hold. But she steered away from that line of thinking and instead focused on reviewing what had just transpired. She was pleased to have held her own with the board, and deep down she knew she would have to be able to follow through, to remain in charge and keep the company going…just in case. All she could do now was place her faith in Susan and Brian Pierson’s ability to save him. She didn’t want to acknowledge that as the days passed, the odds against that happening were increasingly stacked against them.

*********

Leaving the Hart Industries board room, he could hardly believe how his morning had turned out. It hadn’t gone according to plan at all, and he was furious. After all his efforts to get rid of Hart, she was supposed to be getting over him, seeing him for the weak, lying jerk he knew him to be. He had seen her sadness at the party – the sadness Hart must have caused her. But now she appeared to have run after him - didn’t she remember that the man had abandoned her? He’d been gone for weeks! How could she still have any feelings left for him, other than betrayal?

She’d congratulated him, praised him at the party, recognizing his expertise at his craft; little did she know where the roots for it had come from. But now she’d turned against him, snubbed him, rejecting his invitation, while still professing to be with Hart! Happily married?! Obviously, she was still snowed by the man, still blind to his faults, his inferiority.

He was beginning to lose patience, and felt his heart hardening now as he grew more desperate. He still wanted her, more than ever, and was determined to have her. He no longer cared how, or why – only that he _would_ have her, and no one else would – particularly Hart.

Finally, he began to see a way, a possibility. If she was still so in love with her husband, then perhaps he could use that to his advantage. Yes…he would show her that he held Jonathan Hart’s very life in his hands, and the end result would still be what he desired. After all, he had caused the man’s illness, and was certain he knew how it would end, if his lab tests had been accurate – and he knew they were. Hart was his first human subject, with a new delivery method – the one unknown in this round of experiments - and everything was simply taking longer than expected. He would just have to tell her how it was, and use the information to get her to cooperate. He’d see just how far she was willing to go to save her husband’s life.

*********

It was afternoon when Jonathan awoke again, wondering how long he’d been in the woods, so to speak, this time. He looked around for Jennifer, feeling a pang of disappointment when he didn’t see her anywhere. She’d promised she would be there…that is, if it had been real. But perhaps she was in the next room.

He showered and dressed, then made his way out to the living room, seeing immediately that she wasn’t there. Having figured out that his patient was awake this morning, Franklin had already gone to the cafeteria and brought breakfast. He heated it up in the microwave oven - he still wasn’t used to the thing - and they sat down to eat.

Knowing that Jack might not be sure of the previous day’s events, Franklin said, “Mrs. Tobin sure hated to leave you, I could tell. But she had to go back to town for a few things. Dr. Kendall said she should be back soon.”

Jonathan smiled at the nurse, appreciating the news, and especially the confirmation that he hadn’t dreamt her presence. Having come to realize exactly how much he needed her made it somewhat easier to face the day, or however much time he’d have awake, without her. “Thanks, Franklin.”

Midway through the meal, Jonathan uttered a light grunt and grimaced.

“What is it, Mr. Tobin?” Franklin asked.

“Oh, I bit down on something hard…I think I broke my new crown,” he responded with a frown, and spit out a piece of it, inspected it, then set it aside by the table centerpiece.

“That will need to be fixed. I think there’s a dentist here at the center.”

“Thanks.”

“Does it hurt?” Franklin inquired.

“Not really,” he responded, and the topic was dropped for the time being.

Susan returned to the bungalow after another meeting with Dr. Pierson.

She was glad to see that Jonathan had woken again – the new frequency of his conscious times was heartening, but as a doctor she knew they could be just a simple interlude. The drug was still there, wreaking an as yet unknown havoc on his system.

She greeted Jonathan, who had moved to the couch, as always giving him a cursory once-over as they talked. He could see her doing it, mentally reviewing a checklist of symptoms. He met her eye and patiently answered her questions. As she finished her evaluation and was working on her notes, she heard him say her name and looked over at him; he looked like he had something to say, so she put her notes aside and rose to join him as he stood and walked to the window.

In a rare display between patient and doctor, he took her hands and said, “Susan, thank you. For everything. For stepping away from your life to help me, for respecting my wish not to involve Jennifer. And, in particular, for knowing when to ignore that, as well. I was, ah, foolish to try doing this without her.”

“Well, I always understood the motivation, if not the actual reason behind your decision. Nevertheless, I’m glad you changed your mind.” They smiled at each other before he turned back toward the couch. But as he made his way there, he seemed to waver. Susan caught the movement from the corner of her eye and turned to follow his progress; seeing that something was clearly wrong, she followed him quickly. As she reached him, she thought he looked disoriented, and a frown came to her face.

Holding onto his arm, she asked, “Are you okay?”

“No. Something’s happening,” he said, his hand going to his head. “Something…new,” he went on as his knees buckled.

 _J_ _e_ _nnifer…_ She was the last thought he had before everything went black. Susan saw his brow crease in pain and then suddenly he was falling. She was able to break his fall a little, easing him to the ground as he started convulsing.

“Jack! Franklin!” Susan called the nurse who came running to assist her. As he entered the room, she said, “He’s having a seizure.”

They got him onto his back and waited it out, tried to keep him from injuring himself until the seizure had run its course. After what seemed an eternity but in reality was just several seconds, the tremors finally eased, his body went slack and they jumped into action. Susan felt her alarm spike as she realized that he had stopped breathing. But she made an effort to quell her emotions, willing herself to focus on her job and on her patient, Jack Tobin, rather than her friend, Jonathan Hart. And so she and Franklin worked feverishly to save their patient.


	20. Chapter 20

_Fo_ _r every mountain I have climbed_ _  
__And every raging river crossed_ _  
__You were the treasure that I longed to find_ _  
__Wi_ _t_ _hout your love I would be lost_ _  
  
_

_L_ _e_ _t the world stop turning_ _  
__L_ _e_ _t the sun stop burning_ _  
__L_ _e_ _t them tell me love's not worth going through_ _  
__I_ _f it all falls apart_ _  
__I will know deep in my heart_ _  
__The only dream that mattered had come true_ _  
__‘Cause in this life, I was loved by you_ _  
__I_ _n this life, I was loved by you_   
  


_\- Westlife, “In This Life”_

*********

As the last of the board members left, Jennifer headed back to her office, the strain of the meeting finally catching up with her. It had been a long session, with many questions to address, fires to put out, egos to soothe and people to reassure. She knew what they really wanted to know, and wished that she could have told them – she wished she knew the answer herself.

But she also knew that they had to accept her as CEO, once and for all, just in case; she couldn’t show doubt or weakness in front of them.

And while the meeting was over, she knew there were many things she needed to go over with Marcus before she could leave town for an unspecified amount of time. She hoped to arrange things so she wouldn’t be needed in the office for a while, although the board may have something to say about that. She’d have to tread carefully and deliberately for a while.

When she arrived and sat down at the desk, she looked down and saw an envelope, lying there with her name on it. She paused, feeling a disorienting sense of déjà vu. It wasn’t Jonathan’s handwriting, but it unnerved her all the same. She considered asking Deanne about it, sure it hadn’t been there this morning, but they’d all been in the board room since early that morning. No one should have been in her office, but no one had been there to stop them, either.

She looked at the envelope again, studying it for another few seconds before reaching to pick it up. She didn’t recognize the hand writing, and for some reason the sight of it gave her a sense of foreboding. Holding her breath, she opened it and removed the piece of folded, lined steno paper. As she unfolded it and took in the words written there, she felt the blood draining from her face and was unable to move. She had to remind herself to breathe as the words on the page seared themselves into her brain.

 _“_ _I know what’s wrong with him. I know the cause. How badly do you want the answer?”_

Jennifer sat at the desk, her mind rushing headlong through a multitude of scenarios, wondering a million things all at once. _Who was this? What does he know? How does he know? Why now, after all these weeks?_

When the intercom buzzed, she answered it, still distracted. “Yes, Deanne?”

“Marcus is here, Mrs. Hart.”

“Ah, can you give me a few minutes, Deanne? I need to make a call first.”

“Of course.”

Jennifer reached for the phone and dialed Herschel’s direct number at the precinct, knowing how he’d answer.

“Grey here.”

“Yes, hello, Mr. Grey. This is Mrs. Hart on Willow Pond Drive. I was hoping you’d be able to do me a favor and squeeze a housekeeping appointment in on rather short notice. My help is out of town, you understand, and I have an unexpected event coming up. I need a thorough sweeping of the place as soon as possible.”

Herschel gathered that something new had developed, and followed her lead. “Yes, of course, Mrs. Hart. Let’s see. It seems you’re in luck – we’ve had a last-minute cancellation later this afternoon. Will that do?”

“Yes, that would be greatly appreciated.”

“I’ll send a team out directly then.”

“Thank you.”

Feeling a bit better, Jennifer hung up and went out to meet Marcus and Deanne, taking their meeting back to the board room rather than stay in her office, and planning to have Herschel’s team sweep it for bugs, too. Just in case. 

*********

Jennifer was relieved when her follow-up with Deanne and Marcus didn’t take long, since she had difficulty focusing on it. But she felt now she could rest assured that the routine business of running the company was well in hand, and that she could rely on them to manage things in her absence. She promised to be in touch with them on a regular basis.

Checking her watch as she left, she hoped to find Herschel already at the house with his team when she arrived, and she was not disappointed. Indicating that he follow her outside, they walked out onto the grounds of the estate.

“So, what’s happened? Were you contacted?”

She nodded, taking the envelope with the note from her pocket and handing it to him. “I’d like you to check the office, too, just in case.”

“Of course,” he replied, handling the note carefully by the edges before returning it to the envelope, saying he’d see if any fingerprints could be found on the paper.

A plain-clothes officer approached them. “All’s clear, Detective.”

“Nothing? Well, that’s a relief,” he commented to Jennifer, then turned back to the officer. “Thanks for coming by on your way off-duty, Simmons. Thank the other fellas, too, for the favor. O’Malley’s is on me next time.” Simmons acknowledged that with a grin and left.

“This was strictly off the record.”

“Thanks, Herschel,” Jennifer said as they followed Simmons back to the house.

“Well, at least we know no one is listening in. But it’s interesting that you’ve been contacted now, when we didn’t even have reason to suspect foul play until two days ago.”

“Yes, isn’t it.”

The phone rang, and she moved to the desk to answer it.

“Hello, Hart residence.”

 _“_ _Did you get my note?”_ a hoarse, muffled voice said, and she looked to Herschel, indicating the phone on the bar. He moved quickly to call in a trace on the other line. 

“Yes,” she answered. “But I have no idea what you’re referring to.”

 _“_ _Don’t play games with me! You know perfectly well what I mean, and if you want your husband to remain alive you’ll listen to me.”_

“I don’t know who you think you are or what you want. My husband is out of town on personal business,” she retorted, maintaining the public account of his absence.

 _“_ _W_ _hatever you say. I think I know better.”_

“You know nothing about it, do you hear me? Nothing. And I will not - ”

 _“_ _Believe what you want,_ Mrs _. Hart. But I urge you to think it over. I’ll give you some time to think about it, call back later. After that I won’t offer you another chance.”_

“Wait - ”

With that there was a click and Jennifer just stood there, shaking and staring at the phone in her hand. When she looked at Herschel again, he just shook his head.

“What did he say? Did you recognize the voice?”

“No, I didn’t – it was muffled, unclear. He claims to know something, to be offering a chance to save him, he said. But he can’t know how Jonathan is, or where he is.”

“Unless he _is_ responsible.”

“Well, whoever he is, he’s lying, he’s bluffing. He has to be. Even if Susan suspects it, we don’t know that anyone caused Jonathan’s illness. And no one knows where he is – at least we can be pretty certain of that. But it doesn’t matter, because Jonathan is improving. He’s getting better.” Herschel knew she was trying to reassure herself on that score, and also that the missed trace on the call wasn’t a problem. He hoped she was right.

“Well, we’ll see if we get any fingerprints on the note, and go from there. Are you ready to go?”

“Yes, let me just get my bag,” she responded, still appearing distracted and worried, and now very anxious to get back to Jonathan.

When she came back downstairs, Herschel said, “Why don’t you, ah, hide in the back until we get a ways out of town. There might not be anyone listening, but in case someone’s watching, I think it’d be better if they thought you were still at home.” 

She nodded, agreeing with his cautious approach, and hid in the back seat. After they’d driven a while, he didn’t see any signs they were being tailed and pulled into a rest area so she could move to the front seat. They continued the rest of the way in silence, each with their own thoughts.

*********

As they pulled up to the gate at the Center, the guard asked them to wait and disappeared into the little office. After what seemed like a rather long time, he emerged and, raising the gate, waved them through. Herschel shrugged and glanced at Jennifer, knowing she’d been chafing at the delay.

Franklin greeted them when they arrived at the bungalow. Just as she would have passed him to go to the bedroom, Susan arrived, calling out to her to wait. Herschel, standing back and observing the scene, thought Franklin looked relieved that Dr. Kendall had arrived – and, perhaps, that he hadn’t been the one to have to stop Jennifer from entering the bedroom.

“I’m sorry, Jennifer, Herschel, I was at the lab.”

“What’s the matter, Susan?” Jennifer asked, seeing how out of breath she was.

“Jennifer, come and sit down a moment.”

Jennifer just looked at her, waving her hand toward the bedroom door. “But - ”

“Please, Jennifer. We need to talk first.”

“What is it?” Jennifer asked, suddenly afraid as she complied and sat down beside Susan.

Susan took her hands. With a glance at Franklin, she remembered to use the alias. “Jack, well, he’s had a set-back.”

“What do you mean?”

“He had another attack yesterday. It was a seizure, actually.”

When Jennifer, alarmed, would have risen to go to his side, Susan held onto her hands and drew her back down to her seat.

“What happened, exactly?” Herschel asked.

Answering him but still looking at Jennifer, Susan went on, “He woke up again, and I thought he was taking another turn for the better. But suddenly he was falling, convulsing – it was unlike anything that’s ever happened before.”

“Do you have any idea why?”

“Actually, yes, we might. Jack’s blood work shows that the quantity of the chemical substance in his bloodstream is off the charts. I mean, we thought it was high before, but now the percentages are, um, astronomical.”

“How is that possible?” Jennifer said, her face pale, her voice barely above a whisper.

“We have a theory, and if we’re correct, the source has been removed. But the damage has quite probably already been done. And we just don’t know if it’s reversible. If we don’t find a cure, and soon, I don’t know how long - ”

“Susan?” she said, urging her to go on.

“When the seizure happened, Jennifer, he stopped breathing. We have him stabilized but I can honestly say I don’t know what will happen next.” Susan could barely stand the look of devastation on her friend’s face, but she went on, anyway.

“Jennifer, you have to be prepared, before you go in there. He’s still not breathing on his own. He’s stable, honey, but he’s on a respirator and - ”

Her worst fears gripping her now, Jennifer broke away from her and ran to the bedroom, leaving Susan on the couch with tears in her eyes. Herschel just watched Jennifer go with a heavy heart, then went to sit with Susan and try to understand what exactly had happened to his friend.

*********

Jennifer rushed through the door then stopped abruptly, her hand still on the door handle, and her breath caught at the sight before her. Then she slowly closed the door and approached his side. She sank into a chair and reached for his hand.

“Darling?”

But she got no response from him, and the reality of his plight – their plight – was quickly sinking in. Unconscious, he had a tube in his mouth, and, she knew, down his throat, and wires attached to him were running to the machines by his bedside. The whirring of the respirator, marking each breath forced into his body, registered in her mind, as did the steady beeping of the heart monitor. Finally, realizing she was holding her own breath, she closed her eyes and filled her lungs with air, exhaling long and slow, and willed her heart to slow as well. Unconsciously, her heart regulated itself, mimicking the rhythm of his own, matching it beat for each beeping beat from the monitor.

Opening her eyes and looking at him again, she took in the details of his situation. She moved to sit on the edge of the bed and raised his hand to her lips, afraid to touch his face, or disturb the equipment that was keeping him alive.

“Jonathan, I’m here. I’m back. What kind of a mess have you gotten yourself into, hmm?” She paused, not quite knowing what else to say. At last she just said, “I love you. Please wake up…you have to come back to me, Darling, so please fight. Don’t give up. I just don’t know if I can go on without you.”

Tears sprang into her eyes and she stopped talking. The beeping of the monitor notwithstanding, she wanted to really _know_ , so she leaned over and gingerly laid her head against his chest, allowing the soft, steady echo of his heart to resound through her mind, at least temporarily drowning out the noise of the respirator. His heartbeat was reassuringly strong and steady, and she felt herself growing calmer.

When Susan entered a little while later, Jennifer had regained a certain amount of equilibrium, and felt ready to face whatever Susan had to tell her.

“You said you know what caused this?” she asked, as Susan drew another chair up alongside hers.

“Yes, we think so. At dinner yesterday he bit down on something hard and whatever it was, it cracked his crown. He said it was new?”

“Yes,” she confirmed. “He got it a few months ago.”

“Just before all of this started?” Susan guessed.

“I think so,” she said, a light beginning to dawn in her mind as she looked back at her friend.

“I see. That would fit, then. Brian in still analyzing the pieces of crown and tooth, but it appears to be the source of the substance in his blood. If that’s the case, then he won’t be getting any more, at least – I removed the rest of it last night.”

Jennifer nodded, taking it all in. “Good.”

Reaching for her hand, Susan asked, “Jennifer, can I have Franklin bring you something to eat?”

“Oh, I don’t know if I can, Susan - ”

“I think I may have to insist, Jennifer, as a doctor and as your friend. You can’t help him if you waste away to nothing.”

Jennifer had no ready argument for that, and agreed that she would try, at least, to eat whatever Franklin brought. Susan nodded, then took her leave to go meet with Brian and continue their work.

Herschel came in a while later with the tray, and to let her know that he’d be going back to LA a little while later.

“Will you be okay here?” he asked.

“Yes. I can’t leave him again,” she replied. 

“Of course,” he said simply, then, “Can you tell me anything about the crown? Who’s your dentist?”

Looking away from her husband, she answered, “Well, he went to someone new. He had a toothache and our dentist was on vacation, or something. He wasn’t available. I don’t remember the name of the other one, but Deanne must have it, she made the - ”

Herschel frowned when she stopped mid-sentence, a strange look on her face. “Jennifer?”

She focused on him again, and eased her grip on Jonathan’s hand. “Ah, Deanne made the appointment for him, on Richard Eames’ recommendation.”

Jennifer’s expression was dark, and Herschel knew where her thoughts were going. Eames had been a thorn in her side throughout her tenure as CEO.

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. You,” he rested his hand on hers, “are gonna stay right here while I check some things out.” She nodded.

“I’ll go back to LA tonight, take the note to the fingerprint lab. It’ll take a while, and we may not get anything conclusive, but we can try. I’ll get the name of the dentist from Deanne – do you have her phone number? She won’t be in the office at this hour, will she?”

Shaking her head, she went to retrieve a small planner from her bag and gave him Deanne’s home number.

“I’ll do a thorough background check on the dentist. I’m sure there must have been one on Eames before,” he saw her nod, “I’ll get the report from Deanne, and dig some more – see if I can find a connection to the dentist. Don’t worry. Whatever is going on, we’ll get them.” Herschel, too, was angry at the thought of either man’s possible treachery, and the pain and suffering both of his friends were going through. He knew how much Jennifer must want someone to pay for that. Well, so did he.

She nodded in agreement with all of his plans, spoken and unspoken, thankful as ever that she’d reached out to him. “Herschel, thank you. For everything.”

He just nodded and stood up to take his leave, leaning over Jonathan’s bedside to say he’d see him again soon and that he needed to get better, return to his wife. He glanced back at Jennifer. As he reached for her hand and squeezed it, his look assured her that at least some answers were within reach.

As he left she turned back to Jonathan, regarding him solemnly for several minutes.

“Oh, Jonathan.” Jennifer sat back down beside him, bowing her head over his hand, held tightly in her own as her anguish threatened to overwhelm her. She leaned forward to rest her head on the side of the bed, where she could close her eyes for a moment, and be out of the way but still have contact with him.

Finally, exhausted, she fell into a surprisingly deep sleep, his hand still in hers. But no relief, no rest, came to her. Instead, she returned to the dark, recurring nightmare of the past several weeks.

 _I_ _t was dark and she was running, searching everywhere, but as always, unable to find him. She knew he was out there in the gloom, and she felt her despair closing in on her. Then suddenly, she realized she had found him, after all. Yet despite that new certainty, he was somehow still lost to her. It was confusing; if she’d found him, how could he still be lost?_

_She moved on through the dark, now finding herself wandering in and out of familiar, heart-rending scenes from the past few months: Chasing a panicked Jonathan down a mountain path, as his bathrobe flapped in the wind and his slippers got covered in mud. Watching him collapse into a fetal position at her feet, consumed in agony caused by an unknown demon. Finding him angry, volatile, or with hunger in his eyes but no recognition, or worse, just…absent, staring off into space, unaware of her presence. Or watching as he fought to remain aware, but left her, anyway, unable to stay…._

_New scenes now joined the more familiar repeats. Jonathan taking a bite of eggs from the breakfast buffet, only to have his tooth break into jagged pieces, flying in all directions. Fighting off that devious little man for control of Hart Industries, wanting to claw his eyes out as he sneered at her and walked away with his prize. Jonathan falling to the floor, his body gripped by a massive seizure that stopped his breathing, and then his heart. Then he was falling again, this time into a dark, open grave, into which she so wanted to follow him, so she could pull him out and bring him back to life._

_But ambitious, leering men were reaching for her, clinging to her arms, holding her back, keeping her from him…she fought against them and their demands on her. They wanted to make her forget him, or else to take all she had left of him. But she knew he wasn’t gone yet – he wasn’t – there was still time! Why couldn’t they see that? Her anger flared and at last she broke away from them._

_She ran back toward him, toward the darkness, and after an eternity of trying, she found the hole in the ground and threw herself in after him. Now she was falling into a black hole out in space that went on and on without end, blotting out all light, almost blotting him out of her mind, her memory. She was falling, spinning out of control. Falling, reaching out for him one last time in the pitch black of space…._

Jennifer jerked awake, almost sliding off her chair. Disoriented, she steadied herself, reaching back to massage the ache in her neck and shoulders. How long had she been asleep like that? It had to be early morning. Bits and pieces of her nightmare, all a jumble, were momentarily vivid in her mind. She tried to focus on them but as always the images clashed before fading away, escaping her. She could make no sense of it save for the lingering dread, as present as ever.

Drained and afraid for her husband, Jennifer leaned forward to look into his face. It had a pallor she didn’t recall seeing before. Carefully, she reached past the tubes and wires to lightly stroke his cheek, tears coming to her eyes as she regarded him and wondered what would become of them.

*********

Soft morning light gradually illuminated the bedroom and Jennifer, already long awake in these early dawn hours, stood and stretched. She walked around the small room, stopping at the window and taking in the view absently, not really seeing it. As the days passed with no change in Jonathan’s condition, she grew increasingly anxious. Unable to do anything but wait, she could barely eat and got very little rest, and so was completely drained of energy. She felt sure that what little time she did manage to close her eyes and get some sleep was disrupted by the nightmare. Although she still couldn’t quite remember it, somehow she knew it was the same one. There was something significant about it, something important she needed to remember, but so far whatever it was had eluded her. 

An additional worry was that the pre-arranged time of her first check-in to the office was later in the morning and she’d need to go into Escondido to place the call. She didn’t want to leave, even for such a brief period. She had to be there if he woke up – she couldn’t bear the thought of missing that. But however much she was loathe to leave his side, she also really needed to be sure things were going smoothly at Hart Industries. And she was anxious to talk to Herschel, to hear what he’d found out about Eames and the dentist.

She sighed, then turned when she heard the door opening behind her, seeing Susan enter.

“You’re up early,” Susan said, noting how tired her friend looked. She crossed the room to the bed and began her usual checks on her patient’s condition, which appeared unchanged. With a small frown, she prepared to take a new blood sample to analyze in the lab.

“I couldn’t sleep. Nothing seems to be happening, Susan. If he’s not getting any more of the poison, shouldn’t we be seeing some sign – any sign - of improvement?”

Susan looked on her friend with sympathy, seeing her concern and wishing what she had to say next was more positive, more conclusive. But the truth was that Jonathan was far from being out of the woods.

“Well, it’s true that we’ve stopped the flow of the drug into his system, and the amount of it in his blood has therefore been reduced at least a little. That’s important – very important, and hopefully will continue. But it’s clearly taken quite a toll on him, and it’s hard to determine exactly how much of one. Even if the poison were completely removed, Jonathan’s body will need time to recover from its effects. It’s, likely that whatever damage has been done already will be difficult to un-do,” she paused before going on. “And, well, it’s also possible that it can’t be.”

Deflated, Jennifer just shook her head and sank into the chair next to Jonathan’s bedside, her expression growing bleak as the fight seemed to go out of her. She had tried very hard not to think about that possibility, but now that Susan had brought it into the open she couldn’t escape it, and her worst fear now seemed to fill the room until she felt that she couldn’t breathe. She reached for his hand, gripping it tightly, still fighting off the knowledge that there was truly nothing she could do now, nothing save being a witness to whatever would become of him. A more deep-rooted despair began to steal over her than she’d allowed herself to feel thus far. _They hadn’t had enough time…_ She couldn’t help the thought. It was simply too soon. 

“I understand,” she simply whispered at last, not looking at her friend.

“Now, Jennifer, I don’t want you to give up hope yet – we’ll continue to do everything we can to give him a fighting chance…”

“I know, Susan, truly I do. I prefer not to think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t been here with him. And I understand what you’ve given up to do so.” She was still watching her husband, unable to tear her eyes away.

Susan moved closer to her friend, laying her hand on her shoulder. Jennifer reached up for it, giving it a squeeze, and they fell silent as they watched over him together, the only sound in the room now that of the respirator. It seemed like such a tenuous connection to life, and Jennifer found herself concentrating on it, as she so often had in the days since she’d returned. Its steady, reliable whirring relieved her of at least some small portion of her anxiety; as long as it did its job, keeping him alive, he had a chance. She had to believe he still had a chance, but it grew increasingly more difficult to feel any certainty about it.

After a while, Jennifer broke out of her reverie, squeezing Susan’s hand again as she glanced at the clock on the wall. She needed to go into town to call Hart Industries, and Herschel. When she told Susan about her errand, she suggested that Jennifer talk to Franklin, sure that he’d lend her his car. He readily agreed, handing her the keys and taking over her post in their patient’s room. Susan excused herself as well, to run over to the cafeteria before it was time to return to the lab.

Before leaving, Jennifer went to her husband’s side and whispered softly in his ear. Then with another lingering look at him, she assured him that she’d be back soon, and left the room.

*********

After talking with both Deanne and Marcus, Jennifer knew she could rest assured that everything was under control at Hart Industries, at least for the time being. She gave them a few instructions, arranged their next conference call and considered asking Herschel to pick up some paperwork for her before he returned to Escondido.

Jennifer was relieved when Herschel picked up on the first ring.

“How’s Jonathan?” he asked, dismayed to hear that there’d been no change. He expected to hear the exhaustion in her voice, but there was resignation and a tinge of real despair, as well. That was new, and he worried that she was holding up all right. 

“Have you learned anything about Eames or that dentist?” she asked, hoping for some better news. But she was discouraged with his reply.

“Not much. The background check on Eames was pretty thorough, as I’m sure you know, and nothing new has turned up yet. That he’s a despicable bastard we already knew from personal experience. I’m still digging.”

Jennifer had to agree with his assessment, and was disappointed that nothing else had turned up. “And the dentist?”

“Well, so far he’s got a pretty clean record as well – he’d have to, of course, to keep his license. I can’t say what the connection is to Eames, though - he doesn’t appear to know him or to have ever treated him.”

“So why would Eames recommend him to Jonathan?”

“A very good question. This guy – name’s Barnes, by the way – appears to have a solid reputation, and his practice is a new one in town. He came out from Minnesota – said he wanted the warm California climate, or some such. Nothing unusual or suspicious in that. Maybe he just wanted to sink his teeth into a richer market,” he finished.

When she didn’t respond, he thought she was just discouraged that there were no leads and assured her, “Don’t worry, Jennifer. We’ll find the connection.”

But it was something about his play on words that had caught her attention, although she couldn’t say why, exactly. It just seemed familiar somehow. She was again beset by the feeling that she should be remembering something, something significant. Was it something from the dream? She didn’t know, and still couldn’t bring much of it to her mind, anyway, other than fleeting images and sensations – nothing concrete.

Realizing that Herschel had grown quiet on the other end of the line, she finally responded, “Oh – yes, I know we will, Herschel. Thanks. I’ve got to get back now.”

“Okay, Jennifer. I’ll be in touch as soon as I find anything more.”

“Yes, me too,” she replied, and they said their goodbyes and hung up.

Jennifer struggled to identify the significance behind the nagging familiarity of the Herschel’s words. She walked down the street toward the car, still trying to place it.

As she walked past a pleasant café with outdoor tables, she absently looked at the people seated there; many were laughing and talking as they sipped coffee, others were quietly reading the paper. Her eye landed on a woman eating a plate of eggs, and suddenly an image from her nightmare jumped into her consciousness: Jonathan’s tooth breaking on a bite of scrambled eggs, the pieces sent flying. The world seemed to slow down around her as she watched the café patron, but her mind was solidly in the scene from the nightmare. ‘ _Why eggs?’ s_ he wondered. It was a ridiculous thing to crack one’s tooth on. But she knew that it mattered somehow.

The world revved up to normal speed again and she looked around, suddenly aware she’d been staring. She started moving down the street again, slowly, still turning the snippet of dream over in her mind, glad she was able to hold onto it this time. _Why would eggs break his tooth?_ Wait. Perhaps it wasn’t the eggs that were important. She replayed what she could remember of the nightmare scene in her mind again, trying to take it in slow-motion this time, to catch even the smallest detail. In the dream the eggs were on the buffet, she remembered now - at the meeting? But Jonathan hadn’t been there. What was the connection?

Suddenly another memory, but not one from the dream this time, flashed through her mind and she stopped dead in her tracks. She could feel the blood draining from her cheeks as she realized she _knew…_ she knew who was responsible for Jonathan’s illness. It was a hunch, one she had no way of proving. But she felt, to the marrow of her bones, that she was right.

She turned around and rushed back to the phone booth, quickly dialing Herschel’s number again. But he didn’t answer, and for a moment she wondered what to do, wondered if she were jumping to a rash or irrational conclusion. A part of her still felt Eames was involved, somehow – he had to be, since he was the one who’d sent Jonathan to that dentist, and the crown was almost certainly the way the drug had been introduced into his system. And yet…she couldn’t drop her suspicion.

She tried the precinct office next, rather than Herschel’s direct line, and was told that Detective Grey had been called away, and no one knew when he’d return. Unwilling now to let her hunch go, she left a message for him, trying not to say anything too obvious, as her mind turned now to the phone call she’d received at the house, all those days ago.

She’d worried about ignoring the anonymous caller’s offer (or had it been a threat?), but her need to return to Jonathan had been too great, along with her belief, at the time, that the caller had to be bluffing. It had all seemed too unlikely, given the weeks that had passed since Jonathan’s disappearance with no other contact of any kind. Now, she wasn’t so sure. She didn’t know what to make of it. He’d said he had the answer…perhaps the offer would still be good. Despite her desire to return quickly to the center, she knew she wouldn’t be able to rest until she’d checked it out. She had to find out what he wanted, while hoping and praying that it wouldn’t be too late.

Jennifer stood there a few seconds more, the phone in her hand, then made her decision, dialed the operator and asked to be connected to a new LA number. It was risky, but she had to try. She waited nervously while it rang, swallowing to combat a suddenly dry throat. However, by the time the other party answered, she’d found her resolve and spoke with renewed determination.

When she was finished, Jennifer walked quickly to the car. As the hours and days had ticked by with no improvement, no change in her husband’s condition, she’d grown increasingly afraid that time was running out. Now, if there was anything, anything at all, that she could do to save Jonathan, she vowed that she’d do it.


	21. Chapter 21

**Hart’s Divine – Part Four**

**Chapter Twenty-One**

_I_ _s there someone you know,_ _  
__You're loving them so,_ _  
__But taking them all for granted?_ _  
__You may lose them one day_ _  
__Someone takes them away_ _  
__And they don't hear the words you long to say_ _  
  
_

_And I would give anything I own_ _  
__Wi_ _l_ _l give up my life, my heart, my home_ _  
__I would give everything I own_ _  
__J_ _ust to have you back again_ _  
__J_ _ust to touch you once again_  
  


_\- Bread, “Everything I Own”_

*********

Jennifer made the drive back to Los Angeles in record time, her mind awhirl with thoughts, as she tried to plan what she’d say and do when she saw Jonathan’s enemy, and hers, face to face. Glancing at her watch, she was glad to see that she’d have time to run by the house before the meeting.

When Jennifer arrived at home, she only had a few minutes to get changed and make a couple phone calls, including another one to Herschel, but he still didn’t answer. She felt certain he’d understand her message – perhaps even now he was already looking into it.

Jennifer again wished she knew where Max was, wished she’d been able to track him down despite the interruption to the time with his nephew it would have caused. As much as she’d wanted to spare Max any additional worry, Jonathan’s condition was so precarious now that Max really deserved and needed to know.

For most of Jonathan’s life, Max had been the one person he trusted most, and he had come to fulfill the same role of most trusted friend and caretaker of many things for Jennifer, as well. He held their power of attorney, in the event they were incapacitated or one of them transferred it to him. George had the legal documents to do that, as well, but Max had to be present to accept that responsibility. At least Jennifer felt she could trust George to look after their interests in the short term, should anything happen to her before Max was found or Jonathan recovered. Perhaps it was time to trust George with the whole story, too.

Still considering these matters, Jennifer had made her way upstairs to change before going when she heard a car approaching the house. She frowned. The gate was closed, and no one had called up. Wondering if it was Herschel, she went to the window to see. She’d given him the security code, but he usually called to let her know he’d arrived. Seeing a taxi, her breath caught, thinking it could only be one person. She went downstairs quickly, opening the door and going outside to meet the cab’s occupant.

“Max!” she cried, an intense, almost physical relief flooding her at really seeing him there. But in the next moment, her heart was breaking at the thought of how to explain, how to give the news of Jonathan’s condition to this wonderful man who was the only father Jonathan had ever known.

Max had had a long trip home. It had taken two days to make the arrangements and get back to the US, and he’d of course had to stop in Baltimore to get Doug settled. He’d worried the whole way, especially after getting Jennifer’s message from Doug’s family to call home. But repeated phone calls home once he was stateside had met with no success. When he at last talked to Deanne, she’d only been able to confirm what he’d surmised for himself: Mr. H was gone and no one knew where, and Mrs. H was in charge of Hart Industries, where at least she was apparently holding her own. He’d been relieved to hear from Deanne that they believed Mr. and Mrs. H had been in contact.

“Hey, Mrs. H!” he said, hurrying to pay the cab driver then turning to Mrs. H, who almost threw herself into his arms, hugging him. He hugged her back and said, “Mrs. H, you okay? What’s going on? I’ve been trying to reach you for days.”

“Oh, Max,” she just said softly, not sure how to go on, what to say first.

Something in Mrs. H’s tone of voice, and how she held onto him longer and more tightly than usual, told him immediately that something was very, very wrong. But rather than press her, he waited anxiously for her to tell him what it was.

“I’ve been trying to reach you, too,” she whispered, then finally ended the hug and stepped back.

Seeing her fight back the tears suddenly pooling in her eyes, Max feared the worst, and held onto her hand as she drew back.

“Mrs. H, where’s Mr. H?” he asked gently, trying to hide his own anxiety. 

Dabbing quickly at her eyes, Jennifer gathered herself and spoke softly, in a rush. “Come inside, Max. I’m so relieved you’re home! But I only have a few minutes. I’ll try to give you the basics; I can fill you in on the whole story later.”

Max just nodded and followed her inside to the living room, where they sat down together on the couch. He waited with concern as she looked away, as if trying to gather herself before going on.

Meeting his eyes at last, she said, “Mr. H is sick, Max – very sick.” He noticed her hands, clasped in her lap and trembling slightly; her agitated state and the fear in her eyes drove her words home even more forcefully as she went on.

“Apparently he’s been poisoned. It’s been very slow-acting and we still don’t understand fully what it is. We didn’t know for quite a while – it all started well before you left, we think. No one knows anything about this, Max, except Herschel Grey, and Susan – Dr. Kendall. There’s so much more…but for now, what’s most important is that I think I can get an antidote. Or at least, I suspect I know someone who can.”

Jennifer’s thoughts flashed briefly back to the phone call that had started her down her current path…

*********

_J_ _e_ _nnifer waited anxiously on the line while the hostess searched for Nick Bartholomew, hoping that he’d take the call. She listened carefully when he answered, striving to recognize the voice from the phone call the other day. But that voice had been disguised, and she couldn’t be sure it was the same. Suddenly she didn’t feel as certain about her hunch, but decided to forge ahead anyway._

_“_ _This is Jennifer Hart.”_

_“_ _Mr_ _s_ _. Hart – how nice to hear from you.”_

_But Jennifer wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries, and got right to the point. “I’d like to know if your offer from the other night is still good.”_

_Nick paused, surprised. “Um, what offer would that be, Mrs. Hart?”_

_“_ _I think you know,” she replied, while listening carefully and wishing that she could have seen his reaction…perhaps she should have waited, confronted him in person. But it was done now, and she just held her breath, waiting for his response._

_Nick, on the other hand, was glad they weren’t face to face, and paused to consider how to handle this unexpected turn of events. So. She had figured it out. How? Was she only guessing? When she hadn’t answered his second call that night, he’d figured he was back to square one, just waiting for the man to die so he could befriend her, comfort her, convince her of his own superior love for her. But it was taking too long, and he didn’t think he had patience enough for that anymore. She would be his, and he’d grown tired of waiting._

_Now as the silence between them grew, he wondered if he’d heard the merest hint of desperation in her voice. Perhaps he’d been right to try forcing her hand by making his offer, because now, it seemed, she wanted to hear more. He smiled, thinking he could still get what he wanted, after all. One way or another._

_“_ _W_ _e_ _ll_ _,” he drawled, his confidence returning, “Perhaps you’re right.” He decided there was no harm now in her knowing; he knew he had the upper hand. She would obey his instructions, if she wanted Hart to live. And when he had her to himself, it wouldn’t take long to convince her of his superior love and devotion. He could win her over, once she was out from under Hart’s spell. He was certain of it, and of himself._

_“_ _You_ were _the one,” she whispered, relieved that her hunch had been correct, after all. Her tone took on a slightly accusatory edge. “So you know what’s wrong with my husband.”_

_“_ _Could be.”_

_J_ _e_ _nnifer was annoyed with his cavalier attitude, but managed to keep her cool “Is there a cure?”_

_“_ _Could be,” he said again, “for a price.”_

_“_ _And what would that price be?”_

_“_ _Unuh – this isn’t a thing to be discussed over the phone. We’ll need to meet, continue this conversation in person.”_

_“_ _W_ _hen and where, Mr. Bartholomew?” she asked, not surprised by this, knowing that if there was an antidote, she’d need to see him in order to get it, anyway._

_“_ _I_ _t seems I’m free for lunch today, if you’re able to make it by say, 12:30?”_

_J_ _e_ _nnifer glanced at her watch. It would be tight, but she thought she could make it back to Los Angeles in time._

_“_ _That would be fine, Mr. Bartholomew. I’ll see you then.”_

_They agreed to meet at his restaurant, which was public enough for her to feel comfortable, but not so crowded that they’d be easily overheard. She hung up without another word, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, her resolve deepening and her mind already turning to what she’d say when she saw him._

*********

“What antidote? From who?” Max said, bringing her back to the moment.

Not actually answering his questions, Jennifer just said, “I think I know the person responsible, Max, and I’m going to meet him. I don’t know what he wants, but it might take me a while to take care of things. You should go to Jonathan right away. Herschel can help you get there.” She paused. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am that you’re home, Max.”

Jennifer had stood and was pacing the room. She paused by the piano, running her fingers along its edge as she looked at the photos there. She picked up her favorite one of Jonathan and gazed at it for several seconds before putting it back down. Max found her behavior alarming.

“Who are you going to see, Mrs. H? I’m not sure it’s is a good idea, you going to meet this guy alone - maybe I should come with you.”

She stopped pacing to look at him, shaking her head. “I’m sorry, Max, but I need to do this alone. That’s what he expects and I can’t let anything go wrong. It’ll be all right.” She paused, meeting his eye, and once again her worry hit him forcefully. “This could be the only chance he has left, Max. Nothing has helped so far. I have to try.”

Jennifer could see his skepticism about her plan, that he wanted her to go with him to see Mr. H. Much as she needed to be back at Jonathan’s side, the chance that she wouldn’t go back empty-handed – to return with an antidote – was too powerful a temptation, regardless of any potential risks. But she also knew how important it was that Max see him.

“I want to go to him, too, Max. But if it can help Jonathan, I have to do this first,” she said again. “I’ll be along soon. Please, Max, just go to him. Before it’s too late.”

She said this last so softly, so urgently, that he was floored by it, and distracted from his many questions. He couldn’t believe she meant it. But as he looked at her more closely, he saw her anguish and fear, as well as a quiet desperation, in her expression but also in her body language; it was quite plain and a much more intense feeling of dread flowed though him. _What the hell had been going on since he left?_

“But, but, what about Mr. H?” he just stammered, not knowing what else to say.

“I’m doing this _for_ Mr. H, Max. I have to save him if I can, and this may be the only way. Otherwise he’ll, he’ll - ” she stopped, choking on the words, unable to finish the thought. But he knew what she meant.

“Nah, that can’t be,” he said skeptically, refusing to believe it. But again, the look in her eyes spoke volumes, and as her words sank in at last he rose, going quickly to her and hugging her tightly, as if by doing so he could prevent any of this from happening.

“Oh, Max.” She returned his embrace, wishing with all her heart that things were different. But she reluctantly broke away from him, recognizing that there was no time to give in to her emotions. She glanced nervously at her watch then backed toward the door, saying she had to go.

Speechless, Max followed her as she walked out of the house, stood watching as she opened the door to her car. Then she turned back, looking at him, and said, “I’ll do what I can to get the antidote and follow you, but if I’m not in touch with you soon, don’t worry about me – just go to him. He’s in Escondido; Herschel can take you there, he knows everything. If I don’t go now I could miss my chance.”

“Wait, Mrs. H! Please, don’t leave this way. I have a bad feeling about this. Let me come with you!” But she just shook her head as she turned to get in the car.

Glad as Jennifer was that he’d returned literally in the nick of time, it made it much, much harder for her to go. She looked away, but met his eye again as she closed the car door. Then she started the engine and pulled away from the house. She didn’t look back, not wanting to see Max staring after her in bewilderment and shock.

*********

When she arrived at the restaurant, Jennifer was shown to a quiet table in the back. Nick joined her shortly thereafter and greeted her warmly, to all outward appearances, simply pleased that she’d decided to take him up on his offer for lunch.

As before, she got right to the point. “So, is there an antidote, or isn’t there? And if so, how much do you want for it?”

“Slow down, Jennifer. Let’s order our meal before we get down to business. The cuisine here is quite good, if I do say so myself.” He smiled at her, but she was not in a mood to be toyed with. 

“ _Mr_. Bartholomew, I don’t, in fact, have much time for pleasantries. Can you get me the antidote, and if so, how much do you want for it?”

He didn’t answer right away, but just looked at her appraisingly, and she felt a shiver travel up her spine. Just what was he thinking? But she didn’t have to wait long to find out.

“You know, the first time I saw you, I knew you were perfect, a goddess to be worshipped upon her pedestal. Since then, I’ve had my eye on you. And it became clear to me that the esteemed Mr. Jonathan Hart had no true appreciation of your worth – not the way I do. He treats you as a mere equal, but I know you’re really so much more deserving than that. But you couldn’t see it, could you?”

Jennifer had no idea what he was talking about, and was beginning to lose patience. “Just what do you mean? I’m not an object – or a goddess - for you to admire. And you know nothing about my husband, nor me.”

“Well, I don’t know about that. But what I meant to say, dear Jennifer, is that I’m not after money. No. I did it all for _you_.”

“What?” Her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously; she didn’t like where this seemed to be heading.

Ignoring her question, he asked one of his own. “After everything he’s done that’s hurt you, how can you still love him?”

“He’s my husband; of course I love him. And I have no idea what you’re talking about. He hasn’t - ”

He cut her off before she could misspeak. “Don’t lie, Jennifer – it’s unbecoming,” he said, knowing a denial had been on her lips. “I could see how much pain you were in at the party. I know he was the cause of it.”

Still uncertain where this conversation was going, Jennifer tried again to bring it back to the matter at hand.

“None of this relates to the reason I came here, Mr. Bartholomew. You claimed to know what’s wrong with him, and to have a cure.”

But rather than answering her, he seemed to spin off on a tangent again. “You deserve to be on that pedestal, admired, worshipped from afar until the one comes along who can reach you, prove himself worthy. I knew Hart would show his inferiority eventually, and he did, didn’t he? When the going got tough, he gave up, he left town – left _yo_ _u_. Why you couldn’t see for yourself what his failings were, how wrong he was for you, I’ll never understand. I finally grew tired of waiting. I decided that the time had come to change my approach – that’s why I left that note, why I called you that day, why I’m actually willing to help you now – for a price, of course. The end result will be the same, anyway.” He paused, looking at her speculatively.

After a long silence in which she just stared him down, he got to the point. “So, Jennifer - what exactly are you willing to do to save him?” he asked.

“What is it you want?” she asked icily, still bristling at every undeserved slur he’d offered against Jonathan.

“Oh, come on, Jennifer – can’t you guess? I’ve only ever had one desire.” He paused, waiting for her to guess, but again she remained silent so he got to the point.

“You, Jennifer. You are the price of saving his worthless life. You’re worth at least a thousand of him.” He looked at her with brightly shining eyes, plainly excited to have at last made his feelings, his intentions, known. He slapped his hands down on the table, making her jump, and asked, “So, what’ll it be? Are you ready to give him up in order to save him? It’s the only payment I’ll accept.”

She was staring at him now, her shock registering plainly on her face. He was crazy.

“You’re joking. He’s my _husband_! I’m not going to - ”

“Now now, Jennifer,” he interrupted her, “Do you really think I would kid about something as serious as my own happiness?”

Unnerved and starting to rise, she said, “You’re crazy, and I’ve heard enough.”

But he reached out quickly and laid his hand over hers. When she reacted as if it burned, trying to jerk her hand away, his grip tightened, preventing her from leaving.

“Sit down, Jennifer, sit down. Take a moment to really consider what I’m offering, or you could be sorry later.”

She just glared at him, but as he went on she sank slowly back into her seat, her eyes fixed on him now with a growing hatred. “What exactly are you offering, Mr. Bartholomew?” she said through gritted teeth.

“As you suspected, I have an antidote. I not only created the cause of your husband’s, shall we say, decline, but also what should be the cure, as well.” 

He seemed pleased with himself at the first actual confirmation of his responsibility, and Jennifer was momentarily overcome with anger. But she took a deep breath and marshaled her expression.

“Should be?” she inquired as coolly as she could, trying to hide the excitement, and the loathing, she felt.

“Yeah, well, it appears to do the job in rats. Actually, I came upon it rather accidentally – but I don’t suppose you care to know the boring details. You see, your husband was my first human subject. I’m sorry he disappeared - made it impossible to track his progress. But then, here you are. I guess that says it all, doesn’t it?”

He looked at her, studying her as if to determine her frame of mind, her readiness to accept his offer.

“In any case, it would appear that you don’t have any other options left, do you? Or you wouldn’t be here.”

“I’m not leaving my husband for _you_.”

Nick chafed at that, his pride wounded. Despite her unseemly display over that worthless man, Nick was still smitten, and more determined than ever to have her. So he went on with his argument, knowing she was desperate, that she’d come around. He knew she’d have to, and he was confident he could sway her heart in his direction, in time. Meanwhile, just having her with him, on that pedestal, would be enough.

“That’s the wrong way to look at it. No, Jennifer, you’d be getting the cure – saving his life, in point of fact. Don’t you think it’s worth it? Just what is the value of a man’s life – or should I say, your _husband’s_ life – to you, Jennifer?”

Although she said nothing, his question pierced her heart. _Anything…_ she thought silently. Anything.

When she didn’t respond to his taunt, he just smiled cheerfully and said, “Wait too much longer, and I daresay you won’t have to decide anything at all.” At her horrified glare, he decided it was time to quit playing and give her a final chance - and an ultimatum.

“I’m getting impatient, _Mrs. Hart_ ,” he said with derision. “I’m only going to make this offer once, and you know my terms. You’ll give him up and come with me, and never look back. But in exchange, your precious, if unworthy, Jonathan will live. Take it or leave it.”

As Jennifer stared at him now in undisguised hatred, her mind was working furiously on a way out of this dilemma, one she hadn’t seen coming, would never have expected. She struggled to calm her quickly beating heart, to rein in her emotions as well as her expression, forcing herself to think.

On one hand, it was beyond comprehension, and she wanted to refuse point-blank. But then how would she live with herself if Jonathan were to die? If she’d had a chance to save him, no matter how slim or uncertain, and instead had done nothing? Wouldn’t it be better to know he was alive, and safe - no matter what the sacrifice? Even if it meant never seeing him again? But her heart balked forcefully at that idea; she would not, could not, truly accept that. Regardless of what went down in this moment, or in the near future, she knew she’d find a way out of Bartholomew’s trap. Because she knew, as surely as she knew anything, that it was a trap.

Jennifer thought back to that morning, when she’d last seen her husband; it felt like a lifetime ago. Susan’s blunt appraisal of Jonathan’s condition and her concerns about his chances had dashed the hope she’d felt when they had discovered and removed the source of the drug. She knew that if something didn’t change, and soon, that Jonathan’s condition could continue to deteriorate, until his chance for survival would be nil. If it wasn’t already. She closed her eyes, her chest tightening, and tried to will away the fear and panic that this train of thought caused her. The closer it seemed to get, the more she could not bring herself to face the possibility of his death.

Jennifer fought off her panic, eyes still closed, her fists clenched in her lap. She hoped that Nick’s comments about placing her on a pedestal would buy her some time, perhaps give her some protection until she could find a way out of his trap - one she’d have to walk into with her eyes open. She was caught in a corner, with only one way out, one way of saving Jonathan. What else could she do but go along?

She could sense Bartholomew’s impatience growing. Resolved to the necessity of this course of action, she finally met his eye, and gave a slight, almost imperceptible nod of her head.

Nick was surprised, and a bit uncertain he was truly understanding her intent. If she was truly agreeing to go with him, to give Hart up, it would be worth it to part with the antidote. He wasn’t really sure it would work, anyway, and wasn’t concerned with that – not as long as she chose him, now, over Hart.

But he focused on her as she leaned toward him, her gaze boring into him. “So you’ll give him up and come with me?” He had to hear it from her lips, to be sure.

She nodded, and if she seemed reluctant in doing so, he didn’t notice. “I’ll go with you, _after_ I have the antidote and am sure it will be delivered. Did you bring it with you?”

“No, of course I didn’t. But don’t worry – I have it nearby. I’ll take you to get it, and you can call the delivery boy of your choice to meet us. But Jennifer,” his eyes darken threateningly, “No funny business. If I see even one sign that you’ve somehow involved the police in this, ah, private matter, I’ll make sure you never get the antidote, and Jonathan _will_ die.”

Jennifer guessed she shouldn’t have been surprised about the messenger – he’d hardly let her take it herself and trust her to return. What was important was that it be delivered, whether she did so herself or not. By staying with Nick, at least she could insure that he didn’t interfere with that. She had to work to school her expression now to one of grateful acceptance of his terms and acquiesce with a calm nod. ‘ _You’ll pay for this someday if it’s the last thing I do,’_ she was thinking, though it cost her some effort not to blurt it out loud.

Nick waved to the hostess and had her bring him a phone, then indicated that Jennifer should call her courier, telling her where they would meet. He moved around the curved seat of the booth, too close for comfort to Jennifer’s mind, and listened in on her call.

Jennifer rose from the table once she’d made her phone call. “Let’s go,” she said as calmly as she could manage.


	22. Chapter 22

_W_ _hen there's so much trouble that you wanna cry_ _  
__The world has crumbled and you don't know why_ _  
__W_ _hen your hopes are fading and they can't be found…_ _  
  
_

_W_ _hen the blues come calling at the break of dawn_ _  
__R_ _ain keeps falling, but the rainbow's gone_ _  
__W_ _hen you feel like crying but the tears won't come_ _  
__W_ _hen your dreams are dying, when you're on the run_ _  
  
_

_J_ _ust remember I love you, and it'll be alright_ _  
__J_ _ust remember I love you more than I can say_ _  
__J_ _ust remember I love you, and it'll be alright_   
  


_\- Firefall, “Just Remember I Love You”_

*********

Hanging up the phone that morning after talking to Jennifer, Herschel had sighed and turned his mind to the backload of official LAPD cases on his desk. Now, returning to the precinct after a frustrating morning of legwork for one of those cases, he wondered again how Jonathan was faring. He probably wouldn’t hear from Jennifer again for a day or two, and had no excuse to make the trip back to Escondido just yet.

As Herschel entered the precinct, the desk sergeant handed him some messages, and he glanced through them as he headed to his desk. He skimmed quickly over the first few, then came to one from Jennifer. The caterer? Perplexed, he guessed she must mean the caterer from the party, and was sure he could get the name from Deanne. But for now he continued to go though the messages, until he arrived at one that stopped him in his tracks. Max – when did he get back? The note said only that it was extremely urgent that he get in touch with him as soon as possible.

Thinking quickly, Herschel called Deanne, but then felt torn about what to do next. His gut told him something was happening and he needed to get to the Hart estate as soon as possible, but he couldn’t just let Jennifer’s new lead drop. Deciding it was time to recruit some help, he crossed the room to the desk of Detective Joe Matthews, who owed him a few favors, and asked him to begin running a background check on Nick Bartholomew.

“This is urgent - I need to know everything about him, ya got it? Everything. But I need you to keep it quiet, okay, Joe?”

Matthews could tell it was important to him, so he nodded, taking the slip of paper. “Sure, Herschel – no problem.”

“Thanks, Joe. I’ll be in touch.” Herschel went back to grab his suit jacket from the chair where he’d tossed it and headed out the door.

*********

When Herschel arrived at the Hart estate on Willow Pond Drive, Max let him up right away, as if he’d been waiting by the phone for the call from the gate – he probably had, Herschel realized. When he got to the house, Max began talking in a rush before he even got in the door.

“I was in Italy and saw an old American newspaper – there was an article about the party last week and that Mrs. H was CEO of Hart Industries! I left Italy as soon as I could, but I only just got home a little while ago. Mrs. H hardly explained anything, and then she just left to go meet some guy! What’s going on, Detective?”

“Wait - slow down, Max. Jennifer was here? In LA?” he asked, surprised. At Max’s nod, he went on, “What did she say, exactly?”

“Only that Mr. H had been poisoned and you could fill me in. Then she left - said she was going to meet someone about an antidote.”

“What?” Surprised again, Herschel wondered what could have developed since that morning. He replayed their conversation, sure she hadn’t said anything about an antidote then, or in her message.

“I think she figured out who poisoned him, and that she could get the antidote from him. She’s meeting with him right now.”

Herschel had a bad feeling about this new development. ‘ _Jennifer, what are you doing?’_ he wondered.

“Do you know where, Max?” he asked.

“Un uh. She wouldn’t say where, or who he is, and she wouldn’t let me go with her, either. I don’t like it, Detective.”

“Me neither, Max.”

Just then phone rang; distracted, Max went to answer it.

“Hart residence.”

“Max? I’m so glad you’re still there!” A look from Max was all Herschel needed to know who it was. He moved quickly to the extension and slowly eased it out of the cradle.

Mrs. H! Where are you? Is everything okay? Did you get it?”

Jennifer focused on the most important of his flurry of questions.

“Well, not quite, Max, but I’ll have it shortly. Can you meet me? I need you to take the antidote to Jonathan,” Jennifer asked quickly.

“Well, yeah, of course – but why don’t you just get it and go with me to give it to him?” he began.

“It’s, ah, not going to work out that way, Max, but I can’t explain right now. Please, just meet me,” she said again, feeling she couldn’t elaborate on the phone, not with Nick in listening range.

From her guarded tone and words, Herschel guessed that her call was being monitored, and motioned to Max not to press her for details.

“Okay, Mrs. H,” he said.

Glad he didn’t ask any more questions, Jennifer said, “Give me about an hour, Max, and meet me at that little park on Sullivant - you know the one?” When he said he did, she went on, “I’ll be waiting for you on a bench at the west end of the park, near the edge of the woods. And Max - come alone, okay?”

“Sure, Mrs. H.”

“It’s very important that you come alone, Max, do you understand? Mr. H’s life could depend on it.”

“Yeah, Mrs. H – I got it. Of course I’ll come alone.”

“Thanks, Max. I’ll see you soon.”

The line disconnected and Max and Herschel looked at each other, Herschel, at least, already beginning to realize what she must have done.

It seemed crazy, like something out of a movie, but Herschel thought he understood how desperate Jennifer must be feeling. To have gone through so much to find her husband only to be faced with the possibility of losing him again, perhaps forever – yes, he could see how she might be motivated to take drastic measures. If, as he was beginning to suspect, she’d actually traded herself or her freedom for a chance to save Jonathan, well…it was a pretty hefty price to pay. Herschel had come this far for his friends; he knew he’d do whatever it took now to make sure that it was Nick Bartholomew who would have to pay, instead.

But he turned his attention back to Max, who was saying, “I still don’t quite understand what’s going on.”

“I know, Max. But all we can do right now is follow her lead.” He paused to think for a moment, then went out to his car, returning with a box of equipment.

“I can’t go with you, but with this, at least I can listen in.” Herschel held up a tie tack, showing him the tiny microphone inside it. “I’ll stay well out of sight until after you’ve gone.” Max nodded as he put it on.

“Once you have the antidote, Max, I think you should go straight to Jonathan with it.”

“But what about Mrs. H?”

“I’ll watch out for her, Max. And I believe I might know who’s behind this. Don’t worry.”

Max looked skeptical, torn between the immediate, unsettling situation with Mrs. H, and his need to find out how Mr. H was faring.

Herschel and Max finished discussing their plans; Max’s role was to simply get the antidote and leave immediately for Escondido. Herschel gave him directions and instructed him to ask for Dr. Kendall at the gate of the center. Max nodded in understanding and they got ready to go. Herschel went first, to get into a position a discreet distance away from the rendezvous point; Max had a little time to wait yet before he had to leave. Both could only hope that the estate was not being watched.

*********

Jennifer sat nervously on the bench, her eyes continually scanning the grounds of the park as well as the nearby parking lot for Max. He should be here by now. Finally she saw Max’s boat of a car – he rarely drove it anymore – as it pulled into the lot; he parked the car and got out, looking around. Seeing her, he walked over quickly, observing her nervous attitude and the plain sack sitting on the bench beside her purse.

She stood and reached for his hands, thankful he’d arrived on time. “Mrs. H, is everything all right?”

“You came alone? No one followed you?”

“No one followed me,” Max answered truthfully. “What’s going on?” he asked as they sat together on the bench. “Are you okay, Mrs. H?”

“Yes, Max. Everything will be okay,” she said absently, as if trying to reassure herself as well as him.

She picked up the paper bag and pulled out a small, plain box. Opening it, they saw a vial of liquid nestled in a foam cushion inside.

“This should be it, Max. The antidote. It, ah, hasn’t been tested in people.” She looked worried about that, but she went on more confidently, “But take it to Susan – she’ll know what to do. Do you know where to go?”

Max just nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

Jennifer held in a sigh of relief; it made her feel better to know he’d been in contact with Herschel.

“I don’t like leaving you here – you should be coming with me,” Max said in a rush, before she could go.

“I know, Max. But I can’t. Not just yet.” Jennifer knew he didn’t like it, but she couldn’t take the time to explain, knowing that Nick was nearby, watching. She had to follow through with this, until her husband was safe. She just hoped she would know.

She leaned in to hug him, and whispered in his ear, “I don’t know if it’ll be enough… if I can get more, I will. I’ll be in touch if I can. If you don’t see me before, meet me here one week from today – same time. I’ll do whatever I have to, to be here.” She said the last almost as if to herself and he couldn’t fathom what she meant.

“That’s a lot of ifs, Mrs. H. Why not come now?” he urged again.

“I can’t – if I stay at least I can be sure - ” but she cut herself off, not finishing the thought as she sat back, glancing towards the woods. Then she looked back at him and took his hands, holding them tightly as she leaned toward him. She whispered softly and quickly as if to forestall his reaction. Her anguish came across loud and clear, and he could only listen.

“Please, Max, when he’s better, ask Jonathan to…” she paused and swallowed, then rushed on as if thinking better of what she was going to say. “Just…just tell him that I love him. Always.”

Concerned and wondering what she’d been about to say instead, he just nodded. “Of course, Mrs. H – but you can tell him yourself when you get there.”

She didn’t answer, but just squeezed his hands as she sat back again, away from him. He saw her glance again, as if involuntarily, toward the woods.

“You should go, Max. Now. You need to get this to Mr. H,” she said, pushing the box into his hands. “Besides, it could be dangerous for you to stay any longer. Please.” There was no mistaking the urgency in her voice.

He was clearly reluctant. “Does that go for you, too, Mrs. H?” he asked softly.

She paused to consider this then said, “No, I don’t think so. He doesn’t want to hurt me.”

Max was skeptical. “How can you be sure?”

She just tried to summon a smile. “I’m sure. Don’t worry about me, Max - I’ll be fine. As long as _he_ is.”

Their eyes met again. He knew he really had no option at this point but to do as she asked. Only the knowledge that Herschel was in the area, listening, and should have heard the whole exchange, gave Max the strength to nod in agreement at last and get up from the bench. Picking up on her sense of urgency and knowing that he should be on his way, he looked into her eyes one last time, squeezed her hands and at last, turned reluctantly to go.

*********

A few hours later, Max sat at Mr. H’s bedside in Escondido. Dr. Kendall had been surprised when he showed up alone and unannounced. But he was family, and was bearing a possible antidote from Jennifer. So she had welcomed him and taken in his story, then filled him in on her patient’s condition, which was unchanged since Jennifer had left that morning.

Susan told him what she knew about Mrs. H’s part of the story, but had to admit she’d been so focused on caring for Jonathan and searching for a cure that she only had the basics.

“How did they arrive at this point?” Max had asked. “You said he left home? I can’t believe he’d ever do that.”

“Well, believe it. He called and asked me to meet him in San Clemente with his medical records. When I realized what he’d done, and that Jennifer wasn’t with him, I knew I couldn’t just let him go off on his own.”

“But why would he do such a thing?”

“I don’t know, Max. Something happened between them. Jennifer insists it was nothing, but Jonathan, well, neither will actually say anything about it. It’s possible - likely, even - that he wasn’t thinking rationally by then. In any case, he apparently thought that by leaving he was somehow protecting her.”

“I don’t get it – protecting her from what?”

“From himself.”

Max’s reaction to that was incredulous, and emphatic. “No way. There is _no way_ \- he could never, I mean…”

“I know, Max, and of course Jennifer knows it, as well. I think one of the symptoms of the drug, a side effect, perhaps, is that it affects emotions, and perhaps reasoning as well.”

Aghast, Max had just looked at her, unable to summon a response to that. Susan just touched his arm as she turned to leave, meaning to give Max some time alone with his friend. As she excused herself she took the box from the table where he’d left it, wanting to study its contents in the center’s lab while waiting for Franklin to return so she could meet with Brian.

Max sank back down into the chair at Mr. H’s bedside and finally took in the equipment surrounding him, so obviously there to keep him alive. At first all he could do was sit there as their long history together flashed through his mind. Here was a man he respected and loved deeply, a man who was as much a son to him as if they truly shared the same blood. They’d been together a long time, and Max just could not grasp the possibility that he might not be the first to go. It wasn’t acceptable, it just wasn’t _right_ , that it could end this way.

Max stayed with Mr. H, watching over him as he’d always done, and as Mrs. H had asked of him. He talked to him, telling him about his sister’s funeral, how things had gone with Doug and the extended family, and about his trip with his nephew in Europe. He knew he was rambling, but didn’t know what else to say and only hoped that Mr. H would simply hear his voice and know he was there.

But despite their history together and the bond they shared, Max knew he was a poor substitute for Mrs. H; she should have been there, too. Max couldn’t help worrying about her now; he would never have left her in that park if he hadn’t felt certain that Detective Grey would soon set things to rights and come with her to Escondido. As the time passed, he would wonder again and again what was happening back at home that could keep her away.


	23. Chapter 23

_She_ _  
__M_ _ay be the reason I survive_ _  
__The why and wherefore I'm alive_ _  
__The one I'll care for through the rough and ready years_ _  
__Me_ _, I'll take her laughter and her tears_ _  
__And make them all my souvenirs_ _  
__Fo_ _r where she goes I've got to be_ _  
__The meaning of my life is_ _  
__She_   
  


_\- Elvis Costello, “She”_

*********

Max paced the small bedroom next to Mr. H’s bedside, consumed with worry. It had taken a few days of working non-stop for Drs. Kendall and Pierson to analyze the contents of the vial Mrs. H had obtained. With the adjustments they’d made to their own antidote formula, they were all hopeful that the effects of the chemical substance would be reversed, that it would prove to be a viable cure for Mr. H. But now, after two days of receiving the antidote, there had still been no change in his condition. Nevertheless, Dr. Kendall seemed optimistic: there was less and less of the toxin evident in Mr. H’s blood samples. Just as Jennifer had been, Max was frustrated with having to sit by and wait, hoping. But there wasn’t anything else he could do.

Mrs. H. Max was just as worried about her now as he was about Mr. H – at least he knew Mr. H was in good hands. But he felt certain that Mrs. H was in some kind of trouble. Needing to know, Max called Herschel the day after arriving in Escondido and the detective had filled him in on everything he knew, right up to their growing suspicion of Nick Bartholomew. Herschel had managed to follow them from the park but had lost them in traffic; at least he didn’t think he’d been spotted, so Bartholomew hadn’t been tipped off to his presence. While upset with himself for leaving her, Max was sure that Detective Grey felt worse, and was now doing all he could to find her. But neither she nor Bartholomew had been seen or heard from since.

Max sighed and sat down in the chair by the window, and made some effort to review the next day’s racing form from Santa Anita. But without being able to discuss it with Mr. H, he couldn’t even begin to focus on the ponies. Suddenly he was startled half to death as machines started beeping loudly. At first he froze, but then he went quickly to the door, yelling for Dr. Kendall, who came running from her room a moment later.

As she entered the room, Susan could see Jonathan struggling, as if he were choking. A relieved smile came briefly to her face before she was running to turn off the machine, then trying to calm Max down as she helped her patient.

“It’s okay, Max - this is a good thing! It means he’s breathing on his own,” she tried to explain. But then she had to focus on Jonathan, and spoke his name softly. She knew she had to get through to him as he fought the machine that had been doing the work of breathing for him.

“Jonathan, you’re okay…try to stay calm. There’s a tube in your throat to help you breathe – that’s what you’re choking on. But you’re fine now. I’m going to remove the tube; don’t fight it, please – just try to relax your throat for me instead.”

Somehow her calm, soothing voice reached him and Jonathan tried to follow her instructions. His gag reflex was in overdrive and he’d panicked; now he tried to relax and hold his breath as she gently removed the tube from his throat, which felt raw with every breath he now took on his own. When he was finally free of the apparatus, he lay there with his eyes closed for a moment, feeling drained and weak. He could hear Susan assuring someone in the room that he was fine, that he was breathing on his own now. _When haven’t I been_ , he wondered, but he let the thought go, so weak he was glad breathing was autonomic, unaware that it hadn’t been, for a while.

“Jonathan, open your eyes for me – let me know you’re awake,” Susan said, examining him carefully for signs of consciousness. The way he’d been struggling against the respirator, she knew he had to be awake. She squeezed his hand and tapped his cheeks, trying to get a response, but even if he were to slip into unconsciousness now, she knew he’d passed a major hurdle on his road to recovery: he was out of the coma, and breathing on his own again for the first time in days.

Jonathan sensed, as if from far away, that she was trying to get his attention, but he was so tired. Finally a single thought spurred him towards real consciousness, however, and he struggled to open his eyes, to connect with the world again. He thought he’d heard a familiar voice in addition to Susan’s; it was a welcome surprise, but it wasn’t the one he’d expected to hear.

He tried to say her name, but only a hoarse croak came out.

“Shh, now, don’t try to talk. Your throat is raw and dry from being on the respirator. You’re probably quite thirsty, too, I imagine,” Susan went on now, looking into his eyes for his answer. He blinked and nodded slightly, his eyes closing again.

“Max, could you get a glass of water and a straw from the kitchen, please? Not too full.”

“Sure thing, Dr. Kendall,” he answered, relieved to be able to do something useful. When he returned he approached the other side of the bed and handed her the glass. Then he reached for Mr. H’s hand and clasped it firmly.

“Hi, Mr. H.” Max’s relief was obvious when Jonathan looked at him and squeezed his hand weakly in return.

“I know you’re thirsty, Jonathan, but take only a very small sip,” Susan cautioned him as she held the straw to his lips. “Your stomach probably can’t handle anything much just yet, I think.”

She helped him raise his head a little and he obeyed her instructions, taking a small sip. Then, his throat soothed by the moisture, he lay back against the pillow. He tried again to ask for Jennifer, his voice still a barely-there rasp. But doctor and friend knew what he wanted, of course, and exchanged glances across the bed.

“She had to step out for a moment, but she’ll be back soon,” Susan assured him soothingly, her eyes meeting Max’s again. “Now, Jack,” Susan went on, reverting to his pseudonym now that he seemed more alert, “How do you feel? Just nod, please – no talking just yet, okay?” At his slight nod of understanding, she went on, “Any headache or dizziness? Is your vision okay?” She continued her exam, pleased with his responses.

Finally she finished and turned to Max as Jonathan again closed his eyes, looking exhausted and a bit fragile and pale against the crisp whiteness of the bed linens. It still shocked Max to see him in such a state. He moved to the side of the room with Susan and they talked in quiet whispers.

“What can I do, Dr. Kendall?”

“Just be with him, Max. If Herschel doesn’t find Jennifer soon, he’s going to need an explanation. My god, Max, what was she thinking?”

“She was desperate, I figure. And she found a way…at least she thought so.”

“Well, it has certainly been helpful to be able to study the original substance in that vial. The formula was a bit crude, but it helped us understand where to go next.”

“Yeah.” Then Max couldn’t help but say, “I shouldn’t have left her there, alone!”

You did what you had to do, Max, and what she asked of you, to save his life. Don’t worry. She can take care of herself,” she said, trying to reassure him, and herself.

Max agreed, but he also worried that perhaps she’d walked into something she might not be able to get out of so easily, especially since it had been nearly a week now. He brought his attention back to Susan as she continued, as if trying to convince herself of what she was saying, he thought.

“From what Herschel said, she wasn’t exactly kidnapped. She appeared to go of her own free will, isn’t that right?”

Max frowned, thinking it wasn’t as simple as that. “Well, if she wasn’t kidnapped in the strictest sense of the word, I think she _was_ coerced, which is practically the same thing.”

Susan sighed, knowing Max was right. “I know, Max. I know. I’m worried, too. But Herschel will find her – I’m sure of it.”

“I hope so, Dr. Kendall.”

“He-ey.”

Hearing Jonathan’s hoarse whisper, they turned back toward him and saw that he was watching them, a confused look on his face.

He tried to clear his throat, but it was still too dry, and it hurt to do so. He forged ahead with a raspy whisper anyway. “What’s going on?”

“Jack, you should rest,” Susan said, exchanging a worried look with Max and wishing they’d kept their conversation out of the room now that Jonathan was awake.

“Where’s Jennifer?”

Susan moved toward the bed now and laid her hand on his shoulder, whispering herself now, uncertain when Franklin would return. “Jonathan, please, you need to rest -”

“Please.” His throat clearly ached; the word was mouthed more than voiced. But there was no misunderstanding it. 

She nodded reluctantly even as she put her fingers lightly to his lips. “Okay, Jonathan, but please, no more talking. You’ll overtax your voice, and your throat.” He nodded, eyes closing again for a moment. Susan glanced at Max, wondering if this was the wrong move, but Max just lifted his eyebrows and acquiesced, while holding his hand up with thumb and index finger together. He knew how his boss could get, especially when it came to Mrs. H. But telling him something, no matter how small, would perhaps be better than trying to keep him in the dark.

Understanding and agreeing with Max’s message, and his reluctance, Susan went on in a whisper as Jonathan opened his eyes to look at her. “Jennifer had an errand to run back in Los Angeles. She helped find an antidote for you, or at least, something to help us with ours, and it’s a good thing, too, because it appears to be working.” She squeezed his shoulder gently and smiled, while working to conceal her own very real concern. “I think you’re going to be fine, now, and I’m sure she’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.”

Trusting her, he appeared satisfied with that and just nodded as he closed his eyes, clearly feeling exhausted.

“Please, Jonathan, get some rest now, okay?” He just nodded briefly again, and she could tell he’d settled in a bit more against the pillows, his eyes still closed. She patted his shoulder again as she stood and walked back to Max, looking at him and shrugging her shoulders.

Franklin arrived a short while later and Susan updated him on their patient’s newly improved condition and gave him new instructions for his care. Then she told Max she wanted to give Dr. Pierson an update, and deliver a new blood sample for testing. She assured Max that she’d return quickly.

*********

Jonathan gradually became aware of sunlight coming in the window of his room, telling him it was morning. He lingered, eyes closed, still mostly asleep and wondering how long it’d been this time…but, somehow, things felt different – his body felt weaker, for some reason, and he was a little disoriented. Then he noted a new sound in the room – snoring. He only knew one person who could snore like that. _But it couldn’t be – could it?_ Finally, curiosity brought him more fully awake and he opened his eyes, looking toward the sound.

It _was_ Max – when had he arrived? The fact that Max was here could only mean that Jennifer’s presence hadn’t been a dream; how else could Max have found him? Surely he’d come with her, then, and she was here somewhere. 

“Hey, Max,” he said, surprised that it came out softly, and that it hurt his throat to speak.

Max woke up abruptly and looked around, trying to remember where he was and what was going on. But it came back to him quickly, and then he registered that Mr. H was awake and looking at him. He went over to his bedside and gripped his hand. Jonathan could see that Max was exhausted, concerned - and that he was trying to hide it.

“Mr. H! You’re awake!” He went to the door and beckoned to Franklin, who was already up and in the living room.

“When did you get here, Max?” He decided he’d have to watch how much talking he did - his throat was scratchy and sore. He must have come down with something.

“A few days ago, Mr. –ah, Mr. Tobin,” he said, glancing to the door where Franklin was just entering. “You don’t remember? That’s okay. I’m just glad you’re better now.”

Jonathan didn’t quite follow that but said nothing, just feeling glad for some confirmation that he was better; despite having a touch of a cold or something, he also felt better – more…solidly present in the world, somehow.

Max moved out of the way while the nurse asked him a few questions, while cautioning him not to talk, just to nod. “Do you feel up to eating something, Mr. Tobin? Dr. Kendall wants you to get started on real food again.”

Again, Jonathan was confused, but nodded; he was feeling quite hungry, now that he thought about it, which seemed strange.

Franklin had continued talking. “I’ve already retrieved some choices for you from the cafeteria that Dr. Kendall ordered. We’ll start out with something mild and see how you do.”

At his patient’s frown, he glanced at Max, who nodded as he said, “I thought Dr. Kendall said she’d explained last night?”

Jonathan just shook his head and mouthed that he didn’t remember, so Franklin explained gently. “You had a seizure and have been in a coma, Mr. Tobin. You were on a ventilator as well – that’s why your throat hurts. But they found an antidote, and it’s working. You’ll be right as rain in no time.”

At hearing this, Jonathan had a vague recollection of waking up in the night, his throat aching, and he thought he remembered both Susan and yes, Max, being there. So he just nodded that he understood.

“Dr. Kendall is sleeping, but she’ll be in to check on you when she wakes up. You just call me if you need anything,” Franklin said, putting the call button in his hand. “I’ll be in with some food shortly, and then we’ll get you up for some exercise.” He looked at Max on his way out, conveying that he was to call him with any concerns.

The thought of moving at all just made him feel more tired, and he closed his eyes for a moment. Then he looked at Max again and whispered hoarsely, “Jennifer?”

Swallowing and wondering just what he recalled from the previous night, Max answered with the same rather vague accounting Dr. Kendall had given, while hoping his anxiety didn’t show too plainly. “She had to go back to LA, run a few errands, but don’t worry. I’m sure she must have run late, stayed at the house last night. She’ll be back soon.”

Jonathan trusted his word and just nodded, closing his eyes.

*********

Herschel was frustrated. They’d hit a wall in their search for Jennifer and Nick Bartholomew. It had been a few days since he’d had an update from Max, but he hadn’t yet been able to bring himself to go to Escondido; he couldn’t – not until he’d found Jennifer, and she was safe and sound. He didn’t want to tell Jonathan what his wife had done, nor that he’d lost her and Bartholomew.

His thoughts flashed to the moment he’d last seen Nick Bartholomew’s car. He’d had to slam on the brakes, coming abruptly to a halt as a semi barreled through the intersection, neatly cutting him off. Its timing couldn’t have been worse, and he’d hit the steering wheel and cursed in frustration as he helplessly watched the car - a brown, nondescript sedan - disappear around a corner. When the light changed, he went through and turned where he’d seen the car go, but it was nowhere to be seen.

Wiping a hand across his face, he’d just sat there for a moment, then turned the car around. He’d decided to check in with Detective Matthews, hoping he’d found some new info on Bartholomew by now, and then he’d come up with a new plan.

Since then, Herschel had tirelessly searched for any clues at all to their whereabouts, putting other cases on hold as much as he could. At the same time, he couldn’t let word get out, either, so he’d done it largely himself, with only some help from Joe Matthews. Joe knew he owed Herschel several favors, and so continued to dig quietly into Bartholomew’s life and past without asking questions. So far, however, there was nothing much, and Herschel had grown more and more frustrated, and concerned, as time went on.

*********

As the next couple of days passed, Jonathan grew increasingly agitated, and frustrated with his recovering body - physical weakness was definitely something he wasn’t used to – and by the apparent lack of knowledge on anyone’s part about Jennifer’s whereabouts.

He vaguely remembered worried voices in his darkened room, but couldn’t quite recall what he’d heard; the voices had seemed so far away. He wasn’t sure when that had been, either, but somehow he knew they’d been talking about Jennifer, and not him. It nagged at him, this feeling that there was more to her absence than the others would say. Clearly they didn’t want to him worry, but how could he not? What could possibly be keeping her away? Something to do with Hart Industries, perhaps? But if that was it, why not just say so? No, it must be something else. And why hadn’t she been in touch with Max or Susan? He didn’t know for sure and it frustrated him, to say the least.

Now that the drug was mostly out of his system and he was getting better, Jonathan knew that he would no longer be a potential threat to her well-being. He acknowledged to himself that being without her had been rough, perhaps even detrimental to him and to his health. In any case, Jennifer had found him, proving she could and would do so no matter what obstacles were in her way. The thought comforted him and made him proud, even as he wondered and worried about her absence now. It had been three days since he’d awoken in the night, and she still hadn’t arrived. He couldn’t help but dwell on the question of why.

Finally, unable to concoct any more reasonable explanations in his head, he confronted Max, having already surmised that there was something he wasn’t telling him.

“Max, please, just tell me where she is.”

“That’s just it, Mr. H. I don’t know where she is. Believe me, I wish I did! I wish - ” But he caught himself before going on, before admitting that he’d left her when his instincts has screamed at him not to. Even though he’d known this conversation was coming, Max felt ill-prepared to deal with his boss’s intense questioning. At the same time, he’d wondered that it had taken this long for it to start, and knew that Mr. H would never let it go now. Not until he had some answers. Max felt guilty for having kept what little he did know from him as long as he had – even if it was deemed in Mr. H’s best interests to have done so.

“Well, when did you see her last?”

Rationalizing that Mr. H was clearly on the mend, Max gave in, while hoping he could handle the news. He took a deep breath and told him all that he knew of what had transpired with Mrs. H the day he’d arrived home from Europe.

“-And that’s all I knew at the time, Mr. H. I had to do as she asked, and I had to see you. She said it was urgent – she couldn’t risk not getting the antidote to you. She was very concerned, that you, uh, might not make it.”

“But why didn’t she come back with you, and bring it herself?”

“I don’t know, Mr. H. She didn’t say why she wasn’t able to come with me.” Max hated that that was the only answer he had to give. He knew that Mr. H was struggling to comprehend what had happened, but Max couldn’t really explain - he could only guess the reasons behind Mrs. H’s actions. But deep down inside, because he _c_ _ould_ guess, he’d grown increasingly worried about her continued absence.

“So what _do_ you know, Max? Have you been in touch with Herschel? What does he think?” Max heard the edge to his boss’s voice.

“I haven’t heard any news from him in a few days now. All I know is that he was tailing them, but lost them in traffic. He has a theory…”

“Them?”

Max winced a little, kicking himself and not surprised that Mr. H had caught that.

“Max.” Jonathan didn’t need to say anything more to get his meaning – his demand - across. It wasn’t like his old friend to stonewall him like this.

Max hesitated, looking away for a moment, then sighed and went on. “Detective Grey just thinks that Mrs. H may have paid a, a rather hefty price for the antidote,” he hedged.

Jonathan didn’t know what to say to that – it was clear to him that Max wasn’t telling the complete truth, or perhaps just didn’t want to speculate. Perhaps they had nothing else but speculation to go on. What did it matter what Herschel’s theory was, anyway, at this point? So he schooled his features, not revealing any reaction to Max’s evasion. His voice was relatively calm as he asked, “And what do you think, Max?”

Max wished they hadn’t gotten into this conversation at all. Herschel had lost their trail, and there’d been no way to tell if she was Nick’s captive, or if she’d gone with the man willingly, as Detective Grey suspected. But he had to give some kind of an answer, while trying to reassure Mr. H that things were under control, even though he didn’t believe it himself any longer.

“I think…I think she felt desperate, Mr. H. Desperate to save your life however she could. That’s all I can guess. She was so adamant that I get to you, to bring you that antidote; it was as if it held her very last shred of hope. I’ve never seen her like that before – so, so consumed with worry. And once I got here, it was clear that she had good reason to be.”

Jonathan had just closed his eyes as Max spoke. He stayed like that, silent, for so long Max began to worry about such an unprecedented reaction. He looked away, out the window, uncertain what to do now. But then suddenly he heard a noise that made him turn back quickly, and he saw Mr. H pulling off the tape that held the needle of his IV in place.

“Mr. H! What do you think you’re doing?” Max cried, wishing that Dr. Kendall and Franklin weren’t both gone, having left their patient in Max’s charge. Because Max knew that look of stubborn determination on his friend’s face, all too well.

Jonathan just looked at him like he ought to understand. “I’m going back to LA to find Jennifer,” he said in a tone of finality that brooked no arguments.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mr. H! You’re still recovering - you’re still getting the antidote! Leave that alone!” Max, his anger fueled by fear for his friend, grabbed Mr. H’s wrist before he could pull out his IV. “You can’t do this - Dr. Kendall -”

But Jonathan interrupted him and tried to wrench his arm away. “I can’t just lie here and do nothing, Max. She’s in trouble.”

Not letting go, Max said, “We don’t know that for sure, Mr. H, and besides, Detective Grey is working on it! I’m sure he’ll find her -”

“We don’t know that for sure? How can you say that, Max?” Jonathan didn’t consider the possibility that there could be any other explanation for her absence. “If she weren’t in some kind of trouble, she’d be _here_ – we both know that! I can’t just wait and see, Max! I can’t – this is Jennifer we’re talking about.”

And of course, Max understood. It had never been Mr. H’s style to just wait for things to happen. His own needs for recovery weren’t going to stop him from going after his wife. So Max just let go of his wrist and watched as Mr. H gingerly pulled the IV out of his arm. 

“Yeah, Mr. H. I know. Would it help to see Detective Grey, get an update on what’s going on?” Realistically, Max knew that wouldn’t be enough, but it was all he was willing to agree to at this point. He would go, too, and keep an eye on him - and hope he’d be able to talk sense into him if he overdid it - and see how things went. But he knew that continuing to be trapped at the center as her trail grew even colder was not acceptable to his boss and friend.

At Mr. H’s grateful nod, Max thought for a minute as Mr. H slowly moved to get out of bed. Then he went to help him as he changed into his clothes, still concerned that he didn’t have enough strength for this escapade.

He had one more concession to get from Mr. H, however. “We’re leaving a note for Dr.Kendall - you’re just lucky she isn’t here. Just ‘cause we’re going back to LA doesn’t mean you’re not still under her care. She knows what’s best for ya, so when she gets there you’ll do as she says _without a fuss_. I mean it, Mr. H,” he stated, wishing he could shake him out of his determination, for once. “And I don’t want any arguments outta you, either, or I’ll tie you down myself and sit on you if I have to, to keep you still. Agreed?”

Jonathan just looked at him and nodded somewhat reluctantly, frowning slightly. He knew Max was right – he was still weak, and felt poorly enough to know better than to argue. He still needed Susan’s expert care.

“Okay.” Conceding, he gave his trusted, longtime friend a smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes, and, as if trying to lighten the mood, said, “You’re driving.”

“You bet I am,” Max replied emphatically, relieved that he wouldn’t get any arguments on that score, at least.

Max wrote his note for Dr. Kendall and they left the bungalow without a backward glance, Max hovering at Mr. H’s elbow, watching for any sign he might need assistance. But, fueled by adrenaline for the moment, Jonathan made it to the car and got in, his heart beating quickly, though if in exertion or anxiety he wouldn’t have been able to say.

*********

Herschel was surprised, and a bit dismayed, to see Jonathan and Max walk into his office. Surprised and pleased that his friend was up and about, and dismayed, because he knew why Jonathan was there, and because he had nothing concrete to offer him on the whereabouts of his wife.

“Herschel.” Jonathan’s voice was a bit strained, and Herschel could tell that while he seemed clear-headed and focused, he was also still a long way from being fully recovered. He exchanged glances with Max as he went to close the office door, and understood that they were there under some protest from him. He knew Jonathan well enough to figure out how they had come to be there.

“Jonathan. You’re looking good.”

Jonathan just nodded as he sat down, and didn’t beat around the bush. “Thanks, Herschel. I’m sure you know why we’re here. What do you know about this antidote business, and what does it have to do with Jennifer’s whereabouts?”

“Well, actually, I don’t know that much more than Max here.”

“But weren’t you helping her with the case – my case?” he clarified.

“Yes, of course I was – you know that. But the main objective had always been finding you, first and foremost. Anything to do with antidotes came up after that. Until we talked to Susan Kendall, we’d never had any reason to suspect that foul play was involved.”

Jonathan nodded, understanding his point, and waited for Herschel to go on, so he explained his side of what had happened that day, when Jennifer had left her cryptic message about the caterer.

“Fortunately, Max called me. I went over and after Jennifer called I set him up with a wire. I’m pretty positive they were being watched during the meeting. Max left with the antidote, and I waited to see what would happen. I managed to get there just in time, and saw Jennifer leaving with a man - with Nick Bartholomew, to be specific.”

“Nick Bartholomew, as in Bartholomew’s Catering?”

“Yeah. I attended that Hart Industries function about a week before, so I was able to guess the reference from her message, and was already checking Bartholomew out when Max called.”

“I don’t understand – what’s his connection to Jennifer? To any of this?”

“Well, I’m not sure what the connection is to Jennifer, but it seems pretty clear that he could be the one responsible for poisoning you. We’ve learned that he has a background in chemistry, and had a pretty good job with a pharmaceutical company. But he was let go several years ago, word is for ethical violations, although that’s been denied by the owner of the company. He moved on into catering and became quite successful. If I had to guess, I’d, ah, say he wanted to get you out of the way, perhaps.”

Jonathan could guess what the connection was – the man clearly must have an obsession with his wife. He wasn’t the first, nor would he be the last. But Jonathan couldn’t have been more surprised by Herschel’s next statement.

“And then there’s Richard Eames.”

“Eames? What’s he got to do with any of this?”

“Well, that’s been hard to pin down. The only reason he came up at all was that Jennifer recalled that he’d been the one to refer you to a new dentist, back before all this began.”

At Jonathan’s blank look, Herschel went on to say, “Didn’t anyone mention how you were poisoned in such a discreet and unobtrusive way? No? Well, it was in your new crown, undetected, meant to slowly leach into your system. It worked brilliantly, if perhaps more slowly than intended, or at least so Susan believes. When you broke the crown, it released the remaining chemical much too rapidly, which caused your seizure, if I understand correctly.”

Jonathan just took that in for a moment, then asked, “So if Dick’s involved, that implies a plot involving Hart Industries.”

“Actually, we don’t think so. Richard Eames has certainly been a thorn in Hart Industries’, and therefore, Jennifer’s, side, but we don’t think he was behind your illness.”

Sidetracked if only for a moment, Jonathan asked, “What happened at Hart Industries?”

“Fortunately, nothing much. Eames tried to turn the board against her, in an internal take-over attempt.” He went on with a grin, “He was unsuccessful. I only wish I’d been there to witness it. You’ll have to ask Deanne and Marcus, or Jennifer, about it.”

“Herschel, apparently we’ll have to find her, first…?”

Herschel returned to his narrative. “Right. It seemed at first that Eames was involved in the plot against you, but it’ll be difficult, if not impossible, to prove anything specific. The best we can find out, he appears to have simply referred you to that dentist, possibly prompted by Nick Bartholomew, or perhaps Bartholomew simply overheard something and took it from there himself. That’s our best guess. Then he tried to take advantage of what he thought was the weakened state of Hart Industries while Jennifer was at the helm in your stead. And there were several people buying into the rumors that were being spread around – not just Eames.”

“Rumors?”

“Yeah – at first, just that you’d skipped out on her and weren’t coming back. Then, as the news of her control of the company got out, that you were dead, even that she’d gotten rid of you so she could take over the company, stuff like that.”

Jonathan supposed he shouldn’t feel surprised, knowing, as he did now, how much time had actually passed. Still, it was hard to hear how difficult things had been for her, and he felt a wave of regret and guilt wash over him. But he pushed it aside, knowing he needed to focus on finding her now.

“So, how does all of this fit together? And how can it help us find her? Max said you had a theory?”

Herschel glanced at Max again, who just shrugged and said, “I told you my part already, Mr. H. I don’t know much about after I lef – I mean, after getting the antidote.”

Jonathan reached out to clasp Max’s arm, realizing he felt responsible in some way. He didn’t want him to feel unfairly burdened for something Jennifer had insisted he do. After all, the antidote Max had brought to Susan _had_ been helpful in curing him. All the same, he needed to hear Herschel’s side now about what had transpired afterward.

“You won’t like my theory,” Herschel said bluntly at his friend’s gesture to continue. But then he sighed, and looked down at his hands briefly before meeting his friend’s eyes and saying quietly, “You have to understand, Jonathan, that I know what she went through, searching for you. Then, after we found you and she saw how serious your condition truly was, especially after the seizure, well…she only became more desperate, I think.”

“So Max has said.”

Herschel nodded and went on, still rather reluctantly. “Well, as I said, I saw Jennifer leave the park with Nick Bartholomew. To all outward appearances she did so of her own free will.”

“That may be, Detective, and it may not. I still say she must have been coerced or somethin’. No way would she - ” Max began heatedly, but he stopped when Jonathan gripped his arm again.

“Just let him tell it, Max.” He turned to Herschel and, wanting to fill in some gaps, said, “Let’s back up a little bit first. You were at the house when she called to set up the meeting in the park?” 

“That’s right – I listened in on the other phone. She said only that Max was to meet her to get the antidote. She didn’t know I was on the line. I got the impression that someone was listening on her end, as well, and that she didn’t want to say much, perhaps couldn’t speak freely. She never said where she’d gotten the antidote - or from whom. The only clue I had to work with was her note about the caterer, and we hadn’t had enough time to turn anything up on him yet at that point.

“I think she figured out it was Nick – I’m still not clear on how – and went to confront him, to try and get the antidote. And…ultimately, I don’t think he asked her for money.”

Jonathan didn’t need to ask what the man could have wanted from her; he could guess, easily enough. But Herschel had continued with his story.

“Once I was in place near the park, listening on the wire, it seemed clear to me that he was somewhere nearby, watching from the woods, perhaps, and that he may have been armed. Jennifer herself seemed to think there was a danger to Max that day, but not to her.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

Herschel took a deep breath and said slowly, “It does if…if I’m correct that Jennifer had already agreed…if she had traded herself, or her freedom, rather, for the antidote – for the chance to save your life.”

Jonathan was silent for a moment, and they could see him taking in the idea, rejecting it. Herschel sighed, reluctant to press the point. But he knew that Jonathan needed to understand what had happened in the park. So he reached for a tape recorder sitting on a nearby shelf, then retrieved a cassette tape from a locked drawer in his desk. “Jonathan, I think you should hear what we got from the wire Max was wearing that day. Maybe you can glean something new from it – God knows I’ve listened to it enough times, and I got nothing.” Herschel exchanged a look with Max. He knew this could be difficult for Jonathan to hear, but he didn’t know what else to do at this point.

Jonathan, his expression stony and blank, simply took it in, the scene playing out in his mind as he listened. Not all of it was clear. Max saw his jaw tighten when he heard Jennifer tell Max to give her love to him when he recovered, as if she knew then that she wouldn’t be there to do it herself. He, too, had to wonder what she’d been about to say.

Herschel spoke again when the tape was done. “It was a gamble, certainly – no guarantees. But there’s a fine line in there somewhere…I can’t honestly say if or how he forced her to go with him. There was no outward sign of it.”

“So you just let them go?”

“Of course not, Jonathan! As soon as Max was gone, with the wire, I moved to follow them. I almost missed them in the park, then unfortunately, I lost them in traffic. Nearly got creamed by a semi,” he said, running a hand through his hair at the memory of that close call. “I’ve had guys sitting on Bartholomew’s restaurant and home since then, and I’m investigating every lead I can, but there simply hasn’t been any trace of either of them, I’m very sorry to say.”

This just seemed to cement the concern of both men. Needing something to focus on, Jonathan turned to Max and asked, “What was that bit in the middle that got muffled? I couldn’t make it out.”

Herschel chimed in as well, not having had a chance to ask himself.

Max’s face suddenly lit up, clearly excited as he remembered. “I shoulda – Mr. H, that’s how we’ll find her!” He turned to Herschel. “How long has it been since we saw Mrs. H in the park? Quick, Detective – what day was that?”

“Uh, well, it was last week sometime. Wasn’t it Thursday?”

“Today is Thursday, isn’t it? How could I have – I’m sorry Mr. H, I shoulda remembered – but I’ve been so worried about you - ”

“Max, take a breath – what are you saying?” Jonathan had no idea what had gotten into him.

“That part of the tape was muffled because she hugged me, and the bug was in the tie tack! She whispered something in my ear, and it couldn’t pick it up.” Max took a breath now, finally, and slowed down, but his excitement was contagious.

“She said she was afraid there wouldn’t be enough of the antidote. She said if she didn’t make it back to you first, she’d do whatever it took to be in the park in one week with more – same time, same place.”

Max and Jonathan exchanged a long look; the fact that she hadn’t returned seemed to indicate a problem, but they would know for sure if they didn’t find her in the park. They looked to Herschel, who glanced at his watch, trying to calculate how long it would take to get there.

“We’d better get going - it’s gonna be close.”


	24. Chapter 24

_Loo_ _k into your heart - you will find_ _  
__There's nothin' there to hide_ _  
__Take me as I am, take my life,_ _  
__I would give it all - I would sacrifice_ _  
  
_

_Don't tell me it's not worth tryin' for_ _  
__You can't tell me it's not worth dyin' for_ _  
__You know it's true,_ _  
__Everything I do, I do it for you_ _  
  
_

_You know it's true_ _  
__Everything I do, I do it for you._ _  
  
_

_  
__\- Bryan Adams, “(Everything I Do) I Do It For You”_

*********

Jennifer had the taxi drop her off a couple of blocks away and began walking toward the park, looking around nervously as she went. It was almost time to meet Max; she prayed he would be there. She’d decided it was too risky to go home – surely Bartholomew would look for her there – then she had remembered the day, and her whispered promise to Max. Glancing at her watch, she quickened her steps.

She hoped Nick hadn’t yet realized she was gone, let alone what she was after. She had no intention of going back now…not since he had chosen to imprison her rather than take her at her word, which she had intended to keep – at least, until she knew Jonathan was safe and well. But he hadn’t, and she’d gotten away on her own. Now she had stolen what she hoped was all the remaining antidote she could find in his lab. Since she was sure there wouldn’t be any more from that source, she hoped Susan would be able to analyze it and produce more. That is, if Jonathan were still alive.

She tried not to think about it, but ever since walking into Nick’s trap - and finding it more secure than she’d hoped – she’d had a hard time _not_ dwelling on what might be happening to her husband, and her thoughts tended toward darkness, towards the pessimistic and despairing. She wanted to believe that he had survived, that her gamble had paid off. But what if she’d been mistaken? What if Bartholomew had tricked her, played on her fears, and his “cure” had only made things worse? What if it had all been for nothing, and had only rushed his demise instead? _What if?_ She had no way of knowing, and had begun to doubt her rash decision to take a chance on Nick Bartholomew and his amateur chemistry skills. Should she have waited, had more faith in Susan and Brian? She’d done it to save Jonathan’s life, but had to acknowledge that in leaving she’d also sacrificed the chance to be there, to see him through whatever would befall him, good or bad. It was hard enough to think of not being there when – or if - he awoke, but the possibility that he could die and she wouldn’t be there, wouldn’t be able to tell him how she loved him one last time, was almost more now than she could bear.

Jennifer pulled herself back to the moment. She couldn’t allow her mind to wander, let alone dwell on worst-case scenarios. This was her chance; Max would be looking for her here, and they would go back to Jonathan’s side together – with more of Nick’s antidote. She needed to be clearheaded now, on her toes. She glanced around again, getting her bearings.

Perhaps she should have had the taxi drop her off closer to the park - she’d have to hurry. She decided to cut through the woods, hoping they’d give her some cover so she could approach the bench unseen, still fearing that Nick had discovered her absence and guessed her plan. She clutched the bag that held the antidote tighter and headed into the trees.

*********

Nick Bartholomew wasn’t having a very good day. It surprised him, actually, since he’d thought his first week with Jennifer – his lovely prize, won through his cunning and won over by his forthright charm and clearly superior feelings for her – had appeared to go so well. She had been true to her word, going with him that day after giving the antidote to her messenger. If she had seemed down, a bit aloof at first, he could afford to be magnanimous and allow her a period of mourning. As the days passed she’d begun to open up, seeming to warm up to him if a bit shy…her hand had been perfectly played, and he had been fooled. But not again - not this time.

He had decided he could trust her enough to leave her alone that morning. He’d actually felt silly, and a little ashamed, that he’d locked her in her room, that he hadn’t trusted her after she had come with him willingly enough. But he’d had business at the restaurant that he needed to deal with personally and could not be delayed any longer; he couldn’t risk the appearance that anything was out of the ordinary. Not that anyone knew where he was – that had been a fortunate break, inheriting the house from a distant relative. Oh, it wasn’t official – the matter would probably be tied up in court for years to come, so no one could trace it to him yet. But he was a favorite great-nephew, and he had a key. It was the perfect place to begin his worship – dare he say courtship? - of his goddess. But now that seemed to have fallen apart; her interest had been a falsehood - she was obviously still pining after that no-good husband of hers. He had discovered her duplicity when he’d returned to the house, having left without some of the paperwork he needed. She was already gone; the bars on the Spanish-style house’s windows apparently hadn’t been as tightly cemented into the window frame as he thought, and she had managed to remove two of them and squeeze out. He wondered how long she’d been working on it. But that didn’t matter anymore. He set out to find her.

It didn’t take too long to figure out what she could possibly want, or where she might go. The antidote. She’d asked about it once, wanting more, somehow sure he hadn’t given her enough the first time. He’d had no way of knowing, of course, but let slip that there might be more before trying to cover his tracks. Then he’d been foolish enough to refuse her outright; it must have made her determined to get it – and to get away. But she hadn’t asked again, and he’d forgotten the conversation as the days passed and she appeared to warm up to him. He saw now that it had been a stupid miscalculation.

He first spotted her as she was exiting the building where his lab was. He glowered and ducked, hoping she hadn’t seen his car, and watched as she made her way toward a row of taxis. He followed as it wended its way across town. It wasn’t long before he guessed where it was headed. When it stopped near the park, he watched her get out and look around to get her bearings. If she was meeting that man again with the stolen antidote, she’d have to cross the park…but Nick would get there first. He turned quickly and drove around the block to the other end of the park.

Nick took his gun and hid it at his back, under his jacket. He approached the meeting place and found a place to watch, from an inconspicuous distance. He hadn’t quite decided what to do when he caught up to her. He still loved her, but his patience and tolerance were at their limits, and her inability to see his superior love had begun to make him doubtful, and angry. He decided to see how things played out when he confronted her. But he was determined that he alone would have her, or no one would; either way, he would immortalize her, preserving the memory of her perfection as he had first known it. One thing he knew for certain: Hart, if he were even still alive, would not have her back. No matter what.

*********

Herschel, Jonathan and Max drove to the park as quickly as they could, hoping they wouldn’t be too late. Herschel stopped the car some distance from the bench. There was no sign of Jennifer, even though the appointed hour was upon them. Not knowing what to else to do, they agreed that Max would go to the bench and wait for her there, while Herschel and Jonathan would take a quick turn around the park in the car. Perhaps they could spot her as she arrived – if she arrived.

They were at the far end of the park from Max when Jonathan saw the unmistakable figure of his wife as she entered the woods, heading in the direction of the bench where Max waited. He was out of the car almost before Herschel could bring it to a full stop. Pulling over and throwing the car in park, Herschel checked his weapon as he got out and scanned the area. But he saw no sign of Bartholomew. He called to Jonathan to wait, but the man didn’t look back; Herschel caught up with him easily and reached out to stop him; he could see that he was getting winded.

“Jonathan, slow down – why don’t you take it easy? I’ll get her.”

Jonathan kept moving, but he slowed down as he nodded. “I’m right behind you,” he said, taking a breath.

Herschel broke into a run as he entered the woods, following the path in the general direction she’d gone. Finally her saw her as she neared the edge of the woods. Then he saw Max rising from the bench, calling to her, gesturing urgently to his right. As he got to the clearing, too winded to call out himself, Herschel saw Nick Bartholomew approaching from across the clearing. She turned and looked toward Nick, who held a gun in his hand. She stopped and faced him, raising her hand to him. He could see she was talking quickly, but Nick looked angry. No one had seen Herschel yet; he crept closer, assessing the distance between them and glad he’d had the foresight not to holster his weapon.

*********

Max had been looking toward the parking lot for Mrs. H, and at first hadn’t seen her come out of the woods. But he did see Nick Bartholomew, recognizing him from a photo Herschel had shown them. When Nick changed his angle of approach, looking toward the trees, he followed his gaze and saw Mrs. H coming out of the woods. She saw Max, too, and moved toward him quickly, relief plain in her face. Max caught a movement from the corner of his eye; he looked toward Nick and saw that he had a gun.

“Mrs. H! Look out!” he called, rising and gesticulating toward Nick as he moved toward her.

Jennifer saw Nick, and that he had a gun, and yelled at Max to stay away, but he ignored her, running to her side. He tried to shield her from Nick, but Jennifer again thought that he was in more danger than she herself was. She stepped around him, putting herself between Max and Nick, while facing Max and holding onto him tightly.

“Max – don’t! He won’t hurt me, but he doesn’t care about you – he’ll only see you as an obstacle to getting to me.”

Nick came to within ten feet of them and stopped, his gun raised. Glancing nervously around, he was glad there weren’t any people nearby, and kept his body between the gun and anyone with curious eyes.

“All the more reason, Mrs. H - ”

But she maintained her place between them as she turned to face Nick, talking quickly.

“You know why we’re here, Nick. I got the rest of the antidote – let me give it to him, and you and I - we can go back, together.”

“Why should I believe you?” he responded in anger. “You betrayed my trust. You led me to believe you were starting to care for me.”

She spoke quickly now, trying to placate him, convince him, by allowing her anger over everything to come to the surface. “You helped me see how he gave up on me when things got tough. But you can’t ask me to just forget…I loved him, after all. I just wanted to know that he lived. I want him to know what he’s done to me.”

“Mrs. H!” Max was aghast. But other than a wave in his direction, as if asking him to shut up, she ignored him, and stepped closer to Bartholomew.

“You set the terms, and I made my choice – I went with you. That doesn’t have to change. I’m done - ” But Jennifer couldn’t go on saying such things, and didn’t want him to recognize their falsehood. She was only trying to buy time, to get him to forget about Max and put down the gun. Max just _had_ leave with the rest of the antidote, even if once again she couldn’t follow. But she didn’t think Nick was buying it this time.

Nick was angry, and nervous. He couldn’t believe her, could he? She’d made a fool of him, she’d lied, betrayed his trust. He had worshipped her, seen her perfection, but she hadn’t recognized that _he_ was her perfect mate, not Jonathan Hart.

“No!” he shouted at her, no longer caring if he drew attention. “I worshipped you like a goddess! But I see now that you’re not her – you can’t be. Even so, I’d still love you if only you could see that he was all wrong for you! But you are blind, both to my worth and to his lack of it! I can’t trust you, I can’t let you ruin things anymore.” As he ranted, Nick raised his gun and pointed it at her. Max yelled. She held out her hands as if in entreaty, or to stave him off, Max wasn’t sure which. And then a single gunshot rang out.

*********

Jonathan had to slow down. He’d lost sight of Herschel, but continued through the woods in the same general direction, listening for any signs of which way to go. Finally he paused, leaning over to catch his breath. He was afraid that if he didn’t stop for a minute, he’d pass out. But then he thought he could hear voices, and he stood up, looking toward the sound. He started off again, taking a short-cut through the trees this time and moving more slowly than before. As he drew nearer, he heard them again - an angry male voice, and then Jennifer’s as well. It had to be. Then he could see them through the trees: She was standing in front of Max, and Nick Bartholomew was pointing a gun at her. The adrenalin kicked in then and he began to run, until he heard a sound that stopped him in his tracks again, and damn near stopped his heart, as well. A gunshot.

“Jennifer!” he cried, his voice a mere croak in his ears, his heart beating wildly now as he ran, trying to see through the trees. It seemed to take a lifetime, but he finally made it to the edge of the woods and saw her standing there as if in shock, eyes wide and staring at the figure of Nick Bartholomew lying on the ground at her feet. Jonathan’s relief was almost as overwhelming and incapacitating as his fear had been, moments before.

The world seemed to slow down to a crawl as he watched Max step forward and kick the gun out of Nick’s reach, just as Herschel ran out of the woods, shouting, his own weapon drawn. Jonathan said her name again as he stopped and stood there shakily, unable to take a single step more.

“Jennifer.”

This time she heard him and turned toward the sound, slowly, as if she didn’t want to find out that her ears had deceived her. When she saw he was really and truly there, her heart leapt.

“Jonathan?”

Jonathan tried to take a step toward her but, utterly exhausted, he stopped again, leaning over and bracing his hands on his knees.

Jennifer ran toward him and grabbed his arm to support him, seeing that he was unsteady on his feet.

“Jonathan, Darling, are you okay?” 

But he couldn’t answer, feeling dizzy now as he tried to catch his breath, and Jennifer feared that despite being conscious, awake, that he was otherwise no better than before, and her anxiety for his well-being resurfaced.

“Easy, Darling – just sit down,” Jennifer said, her arms going around him just as he went to his knees. Unable to hold him up, she helped him down as gently as she could, kneeling on the ground herself and supporting his body against hers. As she wrapped her arms around him, cradling him against her, she felt his body shudder with ragged breaths and an erratically pounding heart.

Max came running up and she turned to him anxiously. “What’s going on, Max? What’s he doing here? He’s clearly not well enough - ”

Max just shrugged. “He woke up and started asking questions. And then, well, you know how he is - it’s not like we really coulda stopped him from coming.”

Jennifer didn’t like it, but she understood what Max meant. She turned her attention back to Jonathan, whose breathing was still ragged. His eyes closed and he seemed to go a little limp now in her arms.

“Jonathan!” she said urgently, afraid for him again, and he stirred. Then she heard sirens and was relieved to see an ambulance approaching; someone must have called.

“I’m okay,” he said, reaching a hand up to clasp her arms, which were still wrapped around him. But it was proving difficult to get his breathing and his wildly beating heart under control, and he didn’t convince her. She looked frantically to Max, who ran to meet the paramedics as they arrived. One headed toward them while the other went toward Herschel, who was still holding his gun on Bartholomew.

“Okay, ma’am, what’s happened here?” The paramedic said kindly and calmly, picking up on her anxiety but already focusing on Jonathan.

“My husband collapsed. He hasn’t been well…”

“Okay then. Sir, how do you feel?” he asked as he examined his patient. “I was running, and, ah, got winded, lightheaded, but it’s better now.”

“Can you stand?”

Jonathan just nodded, but Jennifer didn’t move, didn’t release him from her embrace. Max, who had appeared back at their side with the paramedic, simply reached for her wrists, unwinding her grip on him. “Come on, Mrs. H, it’s okay. Let him do his job.” She looked at him then let go of Jonathan, regaining her composure. But she maintained her touch on his back as the paramedic helped him rise and walked him to the squad, where he had him sit down and gave him an oxygen mask to help him breathe as he took his vitals. Then he told him to stay put and went to assist his partner.

Jonathan looked over to where the paramedics were working on Bartholomew, as Herschel indicated that the man was under arrest and was not to be left unguarded.

As they prepared to lift Bartholomew onto a stretcher, their paramedic turned to them and said, “I’m sending another bus for you, sir - you need to be checked out at the hospital.”

“No,” Jennifer and Jonathan said in unison, looking at each other.

“No,” Jennifer said again, her eyes not leaving his. “The only place my husband is going is _home_.” He simply nodded his agreement; neither would be persuaded otherwise.

Turning to the paramedic now, she went on, “My husband is already under a private physician’s care – she’s been treating him for some time now and knows what he needs.”

“I don’t know…he really ought to - ”

“Thanks very much for your help, but we insist.”

He could tell from their expressions that they were serious, and just shook his head as he took the oxygen mask back, thinking that the man quite plainly looked like hell. Jennifer helped him move to the nearby bench just as they brought the stretcher carrying Nick Bartholomew to the ambulance.

Nick stirred at that moment and opened his eyes, taking in the group of people surrounding him. When they landed on Jennifer and Jonathan, he got agitated, and shouted at her as they loaded him into the ambulance.

“Jennifer! Wait – you can’t stay with him – come with me! You don’t love him anymore! You said so – you said it was over, that you only wanted him to know what he did to you! You said you’d come away with me again!”

The paramedics had to hold him down, at last resorting to sedating him.

Max winced a bit, watching Mr. and Mrs. H during this outburst. Mr. H had a dark expression on his face, but seemed to let it go or perhaps was simply too exhausted to react. Mrs. H refrained from saying anything in response to the man’s entreaties, looking pointedly away instead, a look in her eyes that Max couldn’t decipher. He also noted that the two of them seemed to avoid looking at each other for a moment. He frowned.

Jennifer, overwhelmed by everything, took a deep breath and turned to where her husband sat. She felt numb, and let Max have his say when he began fussing at them. She was glad to hear that he’d left a note for Susan, and was anxious to have Jonathan back in her care – but at home. She was determined that they would not be going back to Escondido.

Herschel waved to a squad car that had pulled up, and asked the officer to follow the ambulance to the hospital and make sure that Bartholomew was secured properly, a guard detail posted at his room. Then he went to get his car, returning to take them all home.

As Herschel pulled up next to the bench, Jennifer took her husband’s hand and said, “Darling, let’s go home, okay?”

Finally willing to admit that he still felt like hell, Jonathan ignored his whirling thoughts and nodded, relieved to think it was over, and he was going home at last.

*********

The ride back to the house was a silent one. Jonathan was exhausted and rested in the back, his head on the seat and his eyes closed. Next to him, Jennifer turned toward him so she could just watch him as she held his hand, all without saying a word.

When they got to the house, Susan was there with Franklin, who would have been stranded otherwise, since Jennifer had driven his car to LA. Susan had decided that his help would still be valuable and needed in LA, and he’d been willing to go.

Needless to say, Susan had not been pleased to discover Jonathan’s escapade, and was anxious to examine her patient. She could tell immediately that whatever he’d been up to had taken a rather large toll on him. But at first glance he seemed clear-headed, at least, if weak, and so she would try to save any harangues for a later time.

She helped Jonathan out of the car as Jennifer got out on the other side, and together they walked with him into the house.

“Franklin,” Jennifer said in surprise, upon seeing him once they were inside. She glanced quickly at Susan.

“Mrs. Tobin,” he answered her in greeting, while suddenly feeling uncertain about what was going on. 

Jennifer made a split-second decision. “Well, I think we can dispense with that, seeing as you’re here,” Jennifer said, holding her hand out to him. “Actually, it’s not Tobin, it’s Hart - Jennifer Hart. My husband’s name is Jonathan Hart.” When he looked at her with sudden comprehension and surprise, she went on to say, “working at the Center, I’m sure you can appreciate our continued need for discretion?”

Without missing a beat, he just took her hand and smiled warmly. “Yes - yes, of course.”

“Thank you for coming, Franklin. I think I feel better knowing you’ll be here, too.” She smiled back at him, pleased he had come, and acknowledging the trust they all had in him.

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Hart – I’m glad I can still be of assistance,” he said, accepting her welcome and her trust, glad he had decided to come. Having suspected for a while that there was more going on than met the eye, and that his patient was a wealthy, perhaps even important man, (although Dr. Kendall had said nothing, even after they’d arrived at the estate), he felt honored to be trusted with the truth now. And, he was happy to continue caring for his patient, whom he’d grown to like and respect.

He stepped forward to assist him now as they moved towards the stairs, greeting his patient by name. “Mr. Hart, Dr. Kendall has taken the liberty of preparing for you upstairs.”

Jonathan, who’d been surprised to see him but also pleased and relieved, just glanced between Susan and Franklin. His instincts matched those of his doctor and his wife, so Jonathan just nodded and said his name in greeting and acceptance of his presence there. He didn’t argue when Franklin and his wife guided him directly up the stairs to the bedroom, with Susan following closely. She had been busy getting ready for his arrival, glad to have been entrusted with their security codes. He felt relieved to lie down on the bed, if fussed over, as Franklin assisted Susan in giving him a cursory exam. Jennifer, at a loss over what to do, simply sat in the window seat, again an anxious, if silent, witness to her husband’s care.

“I’m not pleased that you did this, Jonathan. The physical exertion alone could have been harmful in any number of ways, to say nothing of cutting off your dose of the antidote. But now it’s done and you seem none the worse for wear, really. Since we don’t really know how much you need in the first place, I think we may as well hold off for a little while and see how you do. I don’t see any signs that you’re being affected by the drug like you were before. So far. You may be fine now without any more, but I’m going to delay my final decision until I see a blood sample.” 

Exhausted, Jonathan just nodded like a good patient, knowing better than to argue, and agreeing with her course of action, in any case. Susan drew her blood sample and finished up, saying they’d be downstairs if needed, and she and Franklin left the room. Jennifer approached his bedside now, sitting on the edge and taking his hand in hers as she smiled at him.

“How are you feeling now, Darling?” she asked.

“I’m okay, I guess. Just really tired.”

“You should get some rest. I’ll stay with you, if you like,” she said.

“Oh, that’s okay, Darling. I’m sure the others are waiting downstairs. Just go – I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Mhmm.” Jonathan could tell she was disappointed that he didn’t want her to stay, so to take the sting out of his words, he went on with a grin, “You know you’ll only distract me, and then I won’t get any rest.”

That got a smile from her and she leaned over him, running her hand over his chest in a soft caress. “Well, I guess we can’t have that. You need to recover your health, and your strength.” She looked into his eyes now and said, “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Me, too,” he whispered softly. “Now, go on, and I’ll see you later. I’ll be okay.” He was truly exhausted, but nor was he ready to admit that his mind was troubled. He needed some time to process everything that had happened.

“Okay,” she said, though still reluctant to leave. But she kissed him lightly on the cheek then tucked him in, giving his chest one last caress as he closed his eyes and settled himself back on the pillows.

She got up to leave, saying she’d check on him in a little while. But he didn’t respond, his breathing already growing deep and regular. Closing the door softly behind her, she paused and took a deep breath, trying to dispel the newest sense of unease that had come over her. Then she put on a brave face and went downstairs to the others.

*********

After checking his blood work, Susan decided that Jonathan should be back on the antidote for a little while longer. Because he wasn’t necessarily an invalid, and needed to be active to rebuild his strength, she decided to give him twice-daily infusions. That way, he wouldn’t be tied to the IV all the time, and could get up for short walks and meals rather than be cooped up in bed, something it was clear he wouldn’t put up with for long. She also worked with Max to make sure he’d be getting plenty of iron and protein-rich foods, and it was agreed that Franklin would be staying on at the estate for at least a week. Susan felt confident now that Jonathan would be back in good health rapidly.

Jonathan, meanwhile, having suffered a setback due to his exertions in the park, was making a slower recovery than he would have liked. But all the same, he knew he was improving every day, and if he seemed to be irritable or in poor spirits and chafing a bit at his restrictions, the others attributed it to his relative inexperience and impatience with protracted illness.

*********

The next day, Susan and Herschel converged on the Hart home at the same time. Herschel wanted to go over Jennifer’s statement against Nick Bartholomew, and Susan was there for Jonathan’s infusion treatment. She found them in the bedroom, discussing some Hart Industries business. Despite being deep in discussion, Jennifer rose quickly when she heard that Herschel was downstairs and needed to talk to her.

She stopped at Jonathan’s side and laid her hand on his shoulder, saying, “I think he wants to go over my statement, so they can press charges. But, um, I’ll be back later, okay?”

He simply nodded at her with a somewhat strained smile and she left, pausing at the door with a glance back at him. The subject of Nick Bartholomew had become, perhaps unconsciously, off-limits between them since that day in the park.

“So, Jonathan, how’s my favorite patient today?” Susan said as she waved him over to the chaise lounge, pulling the IV pole over to the chair; there was really no need for him to be in bed for the infusion of the antidote.

“Well, that’s not much of an honor when I’m your only patient, now is it?” he joked as he sat down in the chair. Rolling up his sleeve, he offered her his arm, hardly noticing at all as she quickly and expertly inserted the IV needle into his vein. “You’re getting almost as good as Franklin at doing that,” he teased her.

“Well, you’ve given me a lot of practice,” she retorted lightly with a grin of her own, then went on to say, “And as a matter of fact, sir, you are not my only patient anymore. I was reinstated at the hospital this morning.”

That got an even bigger smile from him and he congratulated her sincerely. “That’s terrific, Susan. I’m so glad.” All along he’d been concerned that she’d given up too much to help him, and was relieved to hear that her professional life would be getting back on track.

“Yes, well, it wasn’t easy but I talked my way back in.”

“I’m sorry if it’s been difficult for you, Susan, being cut off from your own life - ”

But she interrupted him, saying, “Jonathan, it’s fine. I don’t have a single regret, so don’t go worrying yourself about it either, okay?”

He reached for her hand, making her look at him. “Okay. I know I’ve said it before, but thank you. Thank you for being such an excellent doctor and a true and genuine friend. I honestly don’t think I could have made it through this without you, in fact. Jennifer and I won’t ever forget what you’ve done for us.”

“Well, you’re welcome. And thank you for having such trust in me. I won’t ever forget that.” After a pause, she went on, “There is one thing I’d like to do, with your permission, of course. Brian and I are interested in publishing about this case – it’s a completely new type of drug, and it could be important that others be able to study and learn from it.”

The idea of being the subject of a scholarly article was a bit unsettling, but then, she’d been so instrumental in figuring it all out and curing him – indeed, in saving his life - that he really didn’t need to think it over. “Well, I think that would be fine, as long as no names are mentioned, of course.”

“Of course not – not even Jack Tobin’s,” she said. “Where did you get that alias, anyway? I always wondered how Jennifer knew it was you.”

He smiled at the memory. “Well, it was one of hers first, actually. She introduced herself as Louise Tobin the first time we met in London.”

“I think I may need to hear that whole story, sometime – perhaps from Jennifer,” she commented, while enjoying seeing his expression change as he relived that particular memory. Until she saw his face relax in that moment, she hadn’t realized that he was so preoccupied.

He met her eyes. “Yeah, so, Jack Louis Tobin – it just seemed like a good choice.”

“Yes - it allowed her to find you.”

“Yeah, I still don’t actually know how she figured it out, either. But I’m thankful she did.”

She could see that he meant it, for all of his protestations to the contrary in the early days of his retreat at the center. She was glad, too, and wondered if he had, deep down inside, perhaps even counted on it. She wondered what was on his mind now, but didn’t want to pry.

“Well, Jonathan, I guess I’d better be on my way. When this is done, Franklin can remove the IV for you – don’t you go doing it again yourself, please. I’ll be back in the morning for the next round. And you’re to call me at any time, if you any problems. I mean it - you know I’m not far away.”

He just nodded and promised, knowing she’d been put out with him about the IV, and that she was nervous not to be there with him round the clock, like before. But neither did he want to burden her any more than necessary, knowing he had plenty of regular care-givers now. He sat back and closed his eyes as she made her way out, intending to take a nap while the antidote found its way into his arm.

However, as he sat there, no sleep would come to him. His mind just kept going back to the words of Nick Bartholomew as they took him away, and Jonathan wondered how long he could continue to ignore the questions that burned in his mind. He didn’t want to think about them, didn’t want to ask them. He knew there was an explanation, and also that there hadn’t really been a good time for it yet. But still, he couldn’t stop thinking about it, and worrying about it. About where she’d been, about what the man could have meant.

He didn’t know when Susan would clear him to go back to work, although he hoped it wouldn’t be long. He was glad Jennifer had been willing to discuss some Hart Industries matters with him; it helped in bringing him up to speed, and gave him something to concentrate on. It helped. And it helped to have something to connect with her about, too, since he’d had trouble doing so, ever since the park. He didn’t like to admit it, but there it was. Oh, everything seemed normal and good, on the surface, and he was happy and relieved to be at home again with her. If only he could dismiss the nagging thoughts, and questions, from the back of his mind.

*********

Before leaving, Susan wanted to talk to Franklin and Max, and so by-passed the living room where Jennifer and Herschel were wrapping up their discussion of her statement. She could tell from her friend’s face that it had been a bit of a strain on her. She found Max and Franklin in the kitchen, and gladly accepted the cup of coffee Max offered her. She was pleased with Max’s reports of her patient’s appetite and gave Franklin a few instructions. Then they sat in idle conversation until Herschel and Jennifer joined them. Jennifer greeted Susan warmly, then after a few minutes excused herself to go check on Jonathan.

All three of them paused to watch her go, and then Franklin excused himself as well.

“How’d the statement go? Any new developments?” Max asked when the three of them were alone.

“Oh, it was fine, Max. She’s a strong one. And yeah, we’ve learned a few things, actually. Seems Bartholomew overheard Eames recommending the new dentist to Jonathan at some event he catered, and he must have seen Jennifer at one of those events, as well. Clearly, he fixated on her. He apparently knew one of the technicians at the dental clinic – Barnes was so new to town he was still using substitutes. Bartholomew was able to bribe this technician to get the casting of Jonathan’s tooth, then when the new crown came in, to swap it for the one loaded with the toxin. Barnes never knew a thing about it.”

As they absorbed this news, he turned to Susan. “How is Jonathan? i haven’t seen him since….”

“He’s improving rapidly now, thank goodness. What do you think, Max?” 

Max looked a bit uncomfortable. “Yeah, I guess he’s doing great physically, as you say, Dr. Kendall. I’m glad they’re both home. But I don’t know…I’m worried.”

“About what, Max? Why are you worried about him?” Susan was quick to ask.

“Not just him, Doc – _them_ ,” Max clarified.

“Them?” Herschel asked, confused. They seem fine to me.”

“Well, they’re not. I’m tellin’ ya, they’re just not _them_. If you know what I mean.”

Susan glanced between the two of them and said, “Well, now that you mention it, Jonathan did seem a bit preoccupied. But I just figured he was tired of being sick.”

“It’s more than just that,” Max went on. “On the surface, they seem normal, act normal mostly, but something’s going on, and whatever it is, they’d better fix it soon or I’ll haveta - ” But Max quit talking abruptly and smoothed out his expression, with a warning glance at the others, when he heard the click of Mrs. H’s heels as she approached the kitchen. 

“He’s asleep, thankfully,” she said as she got herself a cup of coffee and joined them.

“And how are you holding up, Jennifer?” Susan asked her friend, reaching for her hand, which Jennifer gladly took and squeezed in return.

“Oh, I’m fine, Susan. I’m just glad it’s all over, that he’s home safely. And I have each of you to thank for that.” She included all of them in her glance, sincerely grateful for their presence in their lives.

“Well, don’t forget us now that it’s over – we’re still here for you, whatever you need,” Susan said, then went on, “Unfortunately, though, I need to be going – I have rounds at the hospital.”

Jennifer’s face lit up at that. “Oh, Susan, that’s great news!”

Max and Herschel added their congratulations, and then Herschel excused himself as well, saying he needed to get back to the precinct and transcribe Jennifer’s statement.

As they left, Jennifer indicated that she wanted to get some work done and retreated to the library. Max wanted to bring up his concerns with her, but wasn’t sure how, so he kept his mouth shut and just watched her go. So much had happened that he hadn’t been here for, and he’d never been one to stick his nose into their relationship. What worried him most, though, was that there never would have been a need to before. He just knew something was wrong between them, something unspoken – it was the first real challenge of their marriage, he supposed. Well, he thought to himself, they’d better get to fixing it soon; he didn’t know how much longer he could stand by and watch before he’d be compelled to say or do _something_.


	25. Chapter 25

_W_ _e_ _ll_ _, here we are again_ _  
__I guess it must be fate_ _  
__W_ _e_ _'ve tried it on our own_ _  
__But deep inside we've known_ _  
__W_ _e_ _'d be back to set things straight_ _  
  
_

_I still remember when_ _  
__Your kiss was so brand new_ _  
__Every memory repeats_ _  
__Every step I take retreats_ _  
__Every journey always_ _  
__Brings me back to you_ _  
  
_

_And after all that we've been through_ _  
__I_ _t all comes down to me and you_ _  
__I guess it's meant to be_ _  
__Fo_ _re_ _v_ _e_ _r you and me, after all_  
  


_\- Cher & Peter Cetera, “After All”_

*********

A couple days later when Jonathan’s morning treatment was finished, he found Jennifer on the patio waiting to have lunch with him. Max followed him out with bowls of salad, then went back to the kitchen to prepare the rest.

Jennifer was sitting at the table, looking pensive. She was worried that while Jonathan seemed to be recovering well, something still didn’t seem right – he wasn’t himself. Susan had said it could take him a while to feel normal again, and up to resuming his regular schedule and activities. Hart Industries was a case in point: while she was bringing him up to speed on what had occurred in his absence, no mention had been made about his return; she was still maintaining her role as CEO. But it wasn’t just that.

At the same time, she knew she hadn’t exactly been herself, either. As the days passed and Jonathan improved, she’d been able to shed most of her fear and worry about his health. But she discovered that the myriad emotions she’d experienced while he was gone were resurfacing, no longer to be denied now that she didn’t have to focus on the immediacy and even doubt of his very survival. She tried to get past the resurgent hurt and anger, but even so the emotions were there, in the background, ever more present the more she tried to deny them. Both of them had reason to be preoccupied, she supposed, but still it concerned her that they had yet to return to their former, easy relationship.

She looked up now as he joined her, followed by Max who placed her salad in front of her, and she smoothed her features to a more neutral expression.

“How’d it go, Darling?” she inquired.

“Oh, it was fine, although I’m afraid we’re gonna run out of good veins sometime soon,” he said, trying to keep the mood light.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around much today – I had a meeting with Marcus this morning, and I need to meet Herschel and the DA at the precinct later this afternoon to officially give my deposition.”

“Didn’t Herschel take your statement the other day?”

“He did, but this will be under oath. They’re hoping there won’t be a need for a grand jury hearing before it goes to trial. If it goes to trial.” She paused, then said, “I’m told they’re going to need a statement from you, as well. But it can wait until you’re up to it.”

Hearing that, he stopped eating and looked at her. It hadn’t actually occurred to him that he’d need to make any kind of statement or deposition; he’d barely been involved, or even known what was happening to him. No – the involvement of that man, that, that caterer was something she knew best, not him. “I don’t really know anything about Nick Bartholomew.”

“Perhaps not, but you know what he did to you – how the drug he gave you affected your health and your mind, and nearly took your life.” She refrained from commenting on how little she actually knew about all of that. Being in the dark about each other’s lives was an unfamiliar, and unwanted, experience for both of them.

“Susan could explain better than me - ” he began.

“Yes – it’s possible that she and Herschel, maybe the others, will need to make a statement, as well.”

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence as both considered what that would mean to their lives, to the privacy they’d worked hard to protect.

Max came through the door with a tray holding the rest of their lunch. Looking at them as he approached the table, he got the sense that he’d interrupted something. Each glanced at him and away again, but not at each other, and neither said a word. They just sat there with rather guarded expressions, as if they had something on their minds but didn’t want to be the first to speak. Max had seen it many times, actually, since they’d gotten home and he didn’t like it one bit.

Mr. and Mrs. H never had problems communicating. But now it was as if each were putting on a brave face, almost a front, for the other, so that everything seemed okay, but under the surface, it wasn’t. He knew it, and he was sure they did, too. They hadn’t avoided each other – quite the contrary. But for all the time they were together, he’d swear that their eyes never quite met. They were clearly disconnected, and it pained him to watch it happening. Now, however, Max sensed that whatever was brewing just beneath the surface was about to come out. Hoping he was right, he set their plates down and made a hasty retreat back into the house without speaking a word.

As Max left the patio, Jennifer turned to her meal – her appetite had pretty much returned to normal – as Jonathan finally said, “Perhaps the proceedings can be sealed.”

She paused, considering the ramifications for their personal lives as well as for Hart Industries. “Yes, that would be preferable.”

“Yeah, I’d rather not have the news of my illness or your, ah, connection, or whatever it is, with Nick Bartholomew all over the papers.”

She looked at him again, but he’d also turned to his food, and didn’t see the dangerous glint that sprang to her eye.

“My connection with - ” she stiffened as she set her fork down with a clang on the glass table. “Exactly what does that mean, Jonathan?”

He glanced up at her, although he seemed suddenly more interested in his plate than anything else. “Well, you know how the press can see this kind of thing…and you were gone a week.”

Rather than being accusatory, his tone was more one of resignation, but it stung nonetheless. “I’m much more interested in how _you_ see ‘this kind of thing’, Jonathan.”

Hearing the edge in her voice now, he looked up at her again and saw the angry challenge in her eyes. It was enough to set him off as well, and his own eyes flashed. He didn’t pause to think as he said, “It’s just that I can’t believe that you’d be willing to, to go off with that man, that’s all.”

“I didn’t just ‘go off’ with him, exactly - ” she started to protest, on the defensive now. 

“Oh? What would you call it, then?”

“It was the only way to get the antidote. He wouldn’t accept anything else,” she said, hedging a bit.

“But we made vows to each other, Jennifer. I guess I never thought you’d forsake them, for, well, for anything!”

“I did _not_ forsake my vows to you! If anything it was because of them that I went! Do you think I could have lived with myself if you had died when I could do something that would save your life? To know there was an antidote - or even the possibility of one – and not have done everything in my power to get it?”

“What does everything mean? Giving up our life together? Do you think I’d want that? To survive knowing the price you paid, and have it result in that? Jennifer, what good would life be anymore if you’re not with me?”

The pain in his eyes at the mere thought of it brought tears to hers; she knew exactly what he meant. “I only thought as far ahead as getting the antidote,” she admitted quietly. “After that, I figured I’d find a way back - ”

“What if you hadn’t been able to?” he asked, still angry at the risk she’d taken.

“But I did,” she said slowly, her eyes flashing again, just as his were. Before he could counter again, she went on. “Besides, he was only after some sort of ideal.” She looked a little uncomfortable, though, glancing at him and away again with a frown, before going on. “He somehow came to, to worship me, on some kind of a pedestal or something. Out of reach. I don’t know… I thought it could buy some time, to just go along with that.”

He leaned across the table toward her, eyes boring intensely into hers even as he hesitated, a mix of emotions crossing his face. But then he reached out to touch her for the first time since the argument began, running his fingers lightly, almost reverently along the line of her cheek and jaw. “I worship you, too, Jennifer, with every look, every touch…”

“He didn’t mean it that way,” she said stubbornly, breaking eye contact, certain she’d read Bartholomew correctly. She was unwilling to concede, just yet, that he had a point.

But Jonathan looked skeptical. “Maybe not. But it wouldn’t have taken him long to get there, believe me. What would you have done then?” he asked.

“Not that,” she said emphatically. “I don’t know – but never that.”

Jonathan didn’t want to continue with his train of thought, but also felt he had to make his point. “And when he forced your hand? Or forced himself on you? Jennifer, I just can’t believe you’d knowingly walk into such a trap, or take such a risk.”

“What other options did I have?” she retorted, her voice rising as her own bone to pick with him surged to the forefront now. “ _You_ started us down this path, Jonathan – not me. If any vows were forsaken, it wasn’t by me - you left first, remember? _You left_.” Her last sentence was a barely audible whisper, as tears sprang to her eyes again. But she held them back with an effort.

“I didn’t leave you, not in that way – I only went away to protect you.”

“I didn’t need protection from my husband!”

“It was the only way, can’t you see that?” It was Jonathan’s turn to be on the defensive now.

“No, I can’t! You could never have hurt me - ”

“I could – I did – you can’t deny that.”

“Oh, yes, I can! Jonathan, we’ve been over this before. It’s not possible.” She remained adamantly stubborn on that point.

“Nevertheless, I can’t just excuse myself for things I did, just because I can’t remember doing them. I don’t operate that way. Don’t you understand?” He sat back, agitated, and ran a hand through his hair. Finally he looked at her again and admitted, “I was afraid, Jennifer – so afraid that I would lose all control, that I already had no control of my actions, of _myself_. Don’t you see? I didn’t know about things I’d said, things I had done! So even if I hadn’t before, as you say, I was terrified that I really would hurt you the next time. And I could never have lived with that.”

His reddened eyes beseeched her to understand, and for the first time she could truly see and understand his fear, what must it have been like for him, why he’d felt his only recourse had been to leave. He’d had to control the situation, and therefore his actions, in the only way he could be certain would guarantee her safety. He saw understanding in her return gaze now, and felt relieved.

Jennifer did understand with more clarity, but still she couldn’t let the argument go, not until she’d said everything she needed _him_ to understand. Suddenly restless, she stood abruptly and walked to the edge of the patio, hands clenched at her sides, before turning to face him again. All of her own hurt and anger were evident in her next words. 

“You left me alone, Jonathan, with absolutely no knowledge of your whereabouts. What do you think that did to me? Do you think for one second that I felt - I don’t know – relieved, somehow, to have escaped the danger you think you posed to me?” She was almost stalking around the patio now, every fiber of her being caught up in reliving those long weeks without him, all the nights of endless worry and bad dreams, wondering not only where he was but if he were alive or dead.

“What if you hadn’t gotten better? What if Susan hadn’t gone with you, and you’d been alone out there - ”

“I wouldn’t have been alone – I’d made arrangements - ” he made the mistake of saying.

“ _Wi_ _t_ _hout telling your wife!_ What if you’d had another blackout, or a seizure? What if,” she choked now on angry tears she could no longer hold back, but she took a deep breath and went on, “You _stopped breathing_ , Jonathan! What if you had died out there? Alone? While I was here, not knowing what had become of you, wondering every time the phone rang if they’d found you dead somewhere? Is that what you’d have really wanted? When we got married, I promised to take care of you, too - in sickness as well as health – all of it, until the end. Until death. Would you have deprived me of even that? What would you have wanted, if our roles had been reversed?”

As her words sank in, Jonathan felt as if she’d slapped him. Yes…what if? Would he have wanted to be separated from her, if the circumstances had been reversed? Not to have been with her until, and, if necessary, in the end? In that instant, his own hurt and anger began to dissolve as he had to acknowledge that, whatever she had done in his absence, she’d truly had no other choice but to act as she had, even up to and including her last, desperate choice – a choice that had given him a chance at life again.

He rose at last and went to where she stood looking out into the distance, shaking slightly and feeling completely drained of energy. Stopping behind her, he placed his hands on her shoulders and said, “If our positions had been reversed, I would have done everything in my power to save you, too. No matter how misguided, truly, that was the only thing motivating my actions in this, as well.”

She turned to face him, finally relenting and nodding in understanding. “I know.” She raised her hands and placed them on his chest, meeting his eyes again at last. “Jonathan, I know you didn’t want any harm to come to me; I know how strong your instinct is to protect me. I do. But we made those wedding vows to _each other_. As equals. That’s how it’s meant to be, how it _has_ to be. That means you have to find it within yourself to allow me the same privilege and responsibility of taking care of you, of protecting you. It means that you trust me and believe in me, even when your instincts may scream otherwise. Can you do that?”

“I can try,” he answered softly. Even as his trust in her was unwavering, so was his instinct to protect her, no matter what. He knew neither would ever go away, and that he’d have to find a balance between them.

She nodded, accepting his honesty, and they at last fell silent, both feeling spent. Finally he asked, “Will you walk with me?” At her nod, he put his arm around her shoulders and they set off slowly around the grounds. He was relieved to feel her arm make its way around his waist. And although things appeared to be easing between them, he knew there was more to say.

Jennifer also understood that they weren’t finished, but she was content to walk quietly with him for awhile. Looking over at her husband, she could tell that he was deep in thought and respected his need to think things through, to process. So she kept her arm around him as they walked, and waited.

Now that everything was over, even knowing about the drug, still Jonathan found it difficult to offer an explanation for his behavior. His wife was the single most important and beloved person in the world to him. That understanding, and the need to keep her safe, alongside his distrust of himself at the time…well, all of it had simply been too strong to discount. But, he also knew that Jennifer was a strong, independent woman who could take care of herself. He should have trusted her to do that, and to take care of him, as well - drug or no drug.

Finally, he spoke again as they continued to walk slowly through the estate grounds. “I’m not sure how much was the drug, and how much was my need to keep you safe no matter what, no matter how…I suppose it was both. But what I do understand now is that what happened – what I did - wasn’t good for either of us.”

He stopped and turned toward her, caressing her arms and looking into her eyes as he went on. “I needed you. So much that I think – I know - things were much worse without you. And in the end, despite my best intentions, my actions didn’t protect you after all – they didn’t keep you safe from Bartholomew’s scheming.” He paused a moment, then went on, “Jennifer, I’m so sorry. Can you forgive me?”

“I can try,” she said, repeating his words as a slightly mischievous smile came to her face. Relieved that everything was at last out in the open, and seeing his sincerity even as he grinned back at her, she hugged him tightly. Then, looking at him again, she went on, “I know your heart was in the right place. And, it seems that I have just as fierce a desire and need to protect and take care of you, too. At any cost.”

He gazed into her eyes, so lovely, so easy to get lost in…but he was focused on her words and replied, “I think it’s the ‘at any cost’ part that got us into trouble.”

“Agreed.”

“So, let’s modify that a bit, shall we?”

“Okay,” she replied, wondering what he had in mind.

He didn’t continue right away, but guided her to a nearby bench and sat down with her, turning to face her as he took her hands in his. When he spoke again, his voice was soft yet intense, and there was no doubting the heartfelt sincerity of the new vow he now made to her.

“Jennifer, we’re better together than we could ever be apart, and I promise you that from now on we will act together, facing anything that comes our way as a team, no matter what. We are partners in every sense of the word and I will never again take matters that affect us both into my own hands and leave you out of any decisions. You are my wife and my soul-mate, and I trust you completely. I promise I will listen to and respect your counsel at all times - but most intently if and when I’m not sure I can trust my own, because you understand me better than anyone else ever could.”

Jennifer searched his face as he spoke, pleased with what she saw to go with his words. She nodded, feeling the love and conviction in his vow, knowing they were the exact words she’d needed and longed to hear. “Thank you, Darling.” She squeezed his hands tightly as she replied. “Jonathan, I promise to be your partner in everything, equally, as well.” She paused, and he could see her former anguish in her eyes as she added softly, “I don’t ever want to be parted – separate – from you like that again.”

Jonathan knew that she didn’t just mean separated in a physical sense. He nodded, and drew her into an embrace which she gladly returned. After a moment she turned her head, relaxing against him, soothed, as always, by the sound of his heart beating beneath her ear.

*********

Max couldn’t avoid hearing their angry voices from the kitchen and felt distinctly uncomfortable. He retreated further into the house, busying himself with some sorely needed dusting in the living room. Finally, realizing he could no longer hear their raised, if muffled, voices, he cautiously headed back into the kitchen. At first he didn’t see them, and so he moved to the door. From there, he saw that they had moved out into the yard, and were sitting on a bench near the garden. Gazing at each other, they were as they should be, in his opinion. While he thought they looked drained, there was also a peace, a sense of comfort and ease between them again, easily discernible even at a distance. Unaware he’d been holding his breath, he released it as he saw Mr. H raise his hand to caress her face, and then they were in each other’s arms.

“That’s more like it,” Max muttered to himself. A touch of embarrassment came over him as they kissed, and he turned away. Going back inside, he called to Freeway, deciding that a trip to the park was in order. Glad they were acting normally again and he could stop worrying, he wrote a quick note and left with a much lighter heart.

*********

Jonathan shifted a little and she looked up at him. Their eyes met and held, neither able to look away. Then he just closed his eyes and kissed her, really kissed her, for the first time since it had all ended. She responded in kind, and the kiss had the effect of setting everything, at long last, to rights, as the last vestiges of estrangement and unease between them were wiped away. When finally the kiss ended, they simply regarded each other, feeling in complete harmony again for the first time in months.

“Does this mean we get to make up now?” he asked with one of his incorrigible grins.

“What would Susan say?” she couldn’t help asking with a grin of her own.

He just proceeded to kiss her neck, his answer mixed in among his kisses. “What the doc…doesn’t know…”

She drew back at that, hesitant now, a hand going to his chest as her eyes searched his. But he just grinned and said, “Oh, I’m kidding. I meant to tell you over lunch: As of this morning, Doctor Susan says I can resume my normal activities.”

His eyes told her he was no longer teasing, and when still she hesitated, he said her name in the low, soft whisper meant only for her ears. Hearing it again after so long stirred her to her soul, and, believing him, she responded readily with another kiss, her hesitation gone. This time, their kiss was not one of apology or reconciliation, but of longing and desire; they had been far too long apart, and now that they were back together and in sync once again, their mutual need for each other grew too great to be ignored any longer.

Pausing for breath, he finally smiled at her. “Come with me?” he asked, holding his hand out to her as he rose. She nodded and took it as she, too, rose from the bench. He glanced up toward the house then reconsidered; she wasn’t surprised when he turned instead toward the closer, and currently more private, guest house. Now was no time for delays or interruptions, for questions or explanations. She squeezed his fingers, intertwined with hers; he only dropped her hand to search for the hidden key and open the door, gesturing for her to precede him inside.

Once inside, he gripped her hand more tightly, and she turned to look at him. She caught the intensity of his gaze as he leaned back against the closed door, his eyes poring into hers. All of his emotions from the past several weeks were laid bare before her in his gaze. She saw his earlier confusion as his undiagnosed illness advanced, and his determination to safeguard her; his hopelessness and even his fear, when things had been at their worst; his worry and dread when he’d realized what price she had paid to save him; and his love and relief that things at last were over and healing between them. 

Jonathan likewise saw a wealth of emotion in her, as if reliving the past several weeks in her eyes. He felt he could truly see the anguish, and loss, and fear that she’d lived with, and that he had caused; her frustration and anger, as she struggled not only to search for him but also to save his company, an additional burden that he’d laid upon her, unasked, with no explanation, no preparation. But he also saw her strength and resilience, as she rose to meet those challenges; he saw her waning hope as his illness progressed, and her desperation to save him, no matter the personal cost. And, at last, he saw her acceptance that his actions, no matter how misguided they’d seemed to her at the time, had been founded in love.

This mutual understanding of all they’d gone through took just a split second to be conveyed, before the intensity of mutual longing and desire, instead, took over. At last they were in each other’s arms, filled with an urgent, almost desperate physical need for each other, prompted by too great a separation that each had long feared would never be resolved. As their lips met, each sought to erase the pain and anguish of their separation, of mistakes made and actions regretted. Hardly pausing for breath, they began helping each other out of their clothes, becoming a tangle of lips and limbs, of bodies and hearts too long deprived of the one other human being who could make them whole. Focused on each other, hands seeking, exploring, caressing, and feeling dizzy with renewed happiness, they somehow made their way toward the bedroom, leaving a trail of shoes and clothes in their wake.

Just inside the room, Jennifer took the initiative and finished divesting Jonathan of his shirt, so she could focus on his chest. Her fingers and then her lips made their way over him, as she reacquainted herself with his body, instinctively finding his most sensitive areas. Jonathan’s breath caught; how he’d ached for her light, sensual touch on his skin! That singular touch which had no equal…he had missed it, yearned for it, so deeply and for too long. He’d yearned for _her_ , and now he couldn’t get enough of her, couldn’t fill his senses with her fast enough or full enough.

For just a moment she looked at him with such love shining from her eyes that he was distracted from her touch, and he knew beyond any doubt that they were in complete accord again. To have regained that trust, that peace, between them was beyond any price. Jennifer understood exactly his thoughts and feelings; she, too, had yearned for him, for the connection between them that was all-encompassing and somehow indefinable. Despair that they may never find it again had haunted her, even after their reunion, such that the realization of this moment now was intoxicating and almost overwhelming.

She returned to her task with a smile that he sensed rather than saw, and Jonathan’s thoughts were brought crashing back into the moment as she continued her tour of his body. She closed her eyes as well, allowing her to focus on her other senses, on filling them with him and only him. Her lips returned to his even as her hands moved caressingly down his back, tickling as they passed lightly along his spine, over the soft skin of his sides. Then her fingers found the closure on his jeans and she worked to free him from them. Achieving her aim as they dropped to the floor, along with his underwear, the fiery sensation of her hands and lips as they continued their journey over his body only aroused him further. Eyes closed, his breathing grew ragged until he called out her name, reaching for her, drawing her back so he could hold her and kiss her again, deeply and passionately. Then, it was his turn to explore.

Jennifer loved the feeling of his body against hers, and had dreamed of it so often during his absence: his warm skin against hers, the soft, tickling sensation of his chest hair on her breasts, the sound of his husky whisper in her ear, calling her name at the height of passion. Now, as he kissed her, his fingers caressingly eased the bra straps off her shoulders. His lips followed, kissing the freckles he found there as he unerringly reached to release the hooks at her back. Feeling breathless as his touch brought her body alive again, her head fell back, allowing him greater access as his lips sought that sweet spot below her ear, then blazed a fiery trail of sensation to the swell of her breasts.

His hands made their way to her waist, finding her skirt somehow still on her body; unable to find the zipper or any way to easily get it off, he simply slid his hands under it instead, then along her legs to her hips, his fingers dancing teasingly along the lacy edge of her panties. Gasping at the sensations he was causing, she quickly found the skirt’s zipper and released it. It joined his pants on the floor and he knelt to slowly draw her panties down her legs, caressing them as he went, his breath tickling her skin. Like him before her, Jennifer couldn’t help drawing in a deep, ragged breath as he lavished attention on her body, her skin tingling until she was sure she couldn’t take any more.

Finally, bodies freed from clothing and eager to become one again, eyes locked on each other, they kissed again and found their way to the bed. Each felt vibrantly alive with sensations they’d feared never to have again: The light, heady scent of each other, teasing their nostrils; the touch of skin on skin, lingering caresses that took them to the edge of reason and united them as only a real love can; words of love whispered in tones reserved only for each other; and the understanding in each other’s eyes as they realized how much had been lost, and how much more regained.

Jennifer reached to gently touch his face; he took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her palm, his eyes never leaving hers. Then they could wait no longer to be one again, at last moving together with a rhythm all their own as their world seemed to explode in a sensual dance of color and light. The intensity of their loving, physical reunion was extreme and they cried out each other’s names, bodies shuddering as they clung to each other, neither wanting it to end. Gradually, they floated back down to earth together, and any doubts they may have had about their ability to reconnect were gone, blown away by the highly passionate and loving experience they’d just shared. Breathless but smiling, they faced each other, bodies still touching, fingers laced, legs still entwined.

“I love you, so, so much,” he whispered, breaking the silence at last, brushing aside a strand of hair as he caressed her cheek.

“I love you the same,” she replied, her eyes sparkling despite the low light of the curtained room.

“I’ll never go away like that again - I couldn’t bear it.” The truth of his words shone in his eyes; having been severed from each other so completely, in sensibility as well as in time and space…well, he knew he could never go through that again.

“I couldn’t either,” she replied in a soft whisper, then went on, “But that’s behind us now.”

Jonathan just nodded in agreement, then closed his eyes as a feeling of fatigue or perhaps simple lethargy began to steal over him. Watching him, Jennifer felt a sudden, resurgent stab of anxiety.

“Jonathan?”

Hearing the concern in her voice, his eyes fluttered open. “Hmm? Oh – I’m okay, Darling, more than okay, actually,” he said, then gave her a rather sheepish smile. “I think I could use a nap, that’s all. It would appear I’ve, ah, grown unaccustomed to such exercise.”

Reassured, she returned his smile, caressing his arm. “Oh, I see. Rest, then, Darling. I’ll be right here.” She looked fondly at him, realizing that it was time she stopped worrying so much. Then she felt her own eyelids growing heavy with contentment as she nestled comfortably against him. Soon she, too, was fast asleep.

*********

Reluctantly, Jennifer awakened from a deep sleep. Looking around in the dim light of the room, she felt confused and drowsy, and it took a moment for her to put things together. She smiled as she realized where she was and what had happened there. But then she sat up with a start, remembering…but also knowing it was too late.

Jonathan stirred beside her now, and opened his eyes, his hand going to her back in a gentle caress. “What’s the matter, Darling?” She looked down at him and his loving gaze told her, wonderfully, that he had no trouble remembering where they were, or what had happened between them.

“I was supposed to give my deposition this afternoon. I think I missed it.”

Jonathan thought that likely, as well. Even without a clock, the low light told them it was late afternoon, at least, and that evening was coming on. Watching as she sat up and looked around, then rose to hurriedly begin gathering and donning her clothes, he thought she seemed a bit overly concerned.

“I’m sure it’ll be all right, Jennifer - ”

“I don’t know. This was to be under oath, in front of a judge, and could have determined whether that man will be prosecuted. Without my testimony…what if he gets off?” He sat up and reached for her, wanting to reassure her, but she was distracted now as she searched for something. He didn’t want their reunion, so beautiful, so perfect, to be marred with any regrets. But uncertain what he could say, he held his tongue for the time being and simply began dressing as well. They walked hand in hand back to the house.

Evening was definitely approaching, but the house seemed oddly quiet. Entering the kitchen, they found a note from Max:

 _Mr_ _. & Mrs. H,_

 _~~1 p.m. Took Freeway to the park~~_ _._

_4 p.m. Gave Franklin the night off - back in the morning. Went out myself for the evening, dinner’s in the fridge._

_Mrs. H, your deposition rescheduled for tomorrow, 9 am. Glad things are getting back to normal around here._

_\- Max_

“There, y’see? All is well,” Jonathan said, noting that Max always had a way of letting it be known that he noticed everything, and cared a great deal. Jennifer nodded and accepted a hug, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Now, what say we check out whatever Max has made for us – I’m sure it’ll be something appropriately healthy - and have ourselves a nice picnic in bed,” he said, his arms still around her.

“In bed, hmm? Am I to understand that you’re feeling sufficiently recovered from the afternoon’s activity? I wouldn’t want to cause any relapses.”

“I don’t think we need to worry about that – I’ve been cleared to resume all normal activities, remember. And I think I proved myself ready to do so this afternoon.” The teasing quality in his voice matched hers. Her hand slid down his back to caress his rear as she answered. “Yes, you did, Darling, to my satisfaction, at least. Though if Susan had realized what ‘normal’ meant, she may not have been so quick to approve it.”

“Well, then, it’s a good thing she doesn’t know.”

“Indeed.”

They couldn’t help grinning at each other then, and burst out laughing as they hugged again then moved to explore the refrigerator. They retreated upstairs to have their picnic, and spent the evening reconnecting and laughing, and also making love, slowly and patiently, as they lovingly reacquainted themselves with each other. They felt remarried all over again, and even more in tune with each other, even more in love than ever, due to their new vows and their new life together as a truly unequaled partnership in all things.


	26. Chapter 26

**Hart’s Divine – Epilogue**

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

_Sunday morning rain is falling_ _  
__Steal some covers, share some skin_ _  
__Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable_ _  
__You twist to fit the mold that I am in_ _  
  
_

_Fi_ _ngers trace your every outline_ _  
__P_ _aint a picture with my hands_ _  
__Back and forth we sway like branches in a storm_ _  
__Change the weather, still together when it ends_ _  
  
_

_That may be all I need_ _  
__I_ _n darkness she is all I see_ _  
__Come and rest your bones with me_   
_Driving slow on Sunday morning_ _  
__And I never want to leave_

_\- Maroon 5, “Sunday Morning”_

*********

Dick Eames was leaving in a bit of a rush as Stan Robertson awaited his turn to see the boss. He didn’t get a chance to speak to him before the CEO of Hart Industries was calling him in without waiting for Deanne to announce him.

“Sit down,” Jonathan said as Stan entered, ignoring his board member’s outstretched hand and circling the desk to sit down himself. He didn’t look up until the man was seated across from him, and when he did it was to study him with an appraising look, observing that his guest was getting increasingly uncomfortable. Leaning back in his chair, he finally met the man’s eyes and began to speak.

“Mr. Robertson, it appears you’ve had a rather interesting time in your first few months on the Hart Industries board.”

“Well, I’m not sure I’d say - ”

“I would, although I suspect that it was largely at your fellow rookie’s instigation.” Jonathan paused to consider him again, until the man was practically squirming, wondering what the Hart CEO would say next.

“Because of that hunch, I believe I’m willing to give you another chance to demonstrate your worth – or lack thereof – to Hart Industries, and so a trial period can be arranged. Are you interested?”

“Well, uh, yes, yes, I am.” Stan managed to get out, while wondering what had happened with Dick.

“You need to learn how we do things around here, Robertson.” Jonathan said, still looking at him steadily, no trace of a smile on his face. Stan just nodded, not sure what the man was getting at.

Finally, apparently done considering the man sitting across from him, Jonathan went on, “All right then. I won’t ask for your resignation at this time. We’ll have a trial period to see if you can adjust to the way we function on the Hart Industries board, and we’ll see what you can bring to it as well.” He paused briefly before going on to say, “There is one condition, however.”

Stan just remained silent as he went on.

“I expect you to restrain yourself when it comes to, shall we say, _admiring_ my wife. Your attitude has been brazen and disrespectful. I don’t appreciate it. Although I suspect she’s been too gracious to say so,” Stan had to disagree with him there, but knew better than to interrupt as Jonathan continued, “you’ve made her uncomfortable on several occasions, and it has been noticed by others. Aside from the insult you give her, and me, by behaving toward her in anything other than a professional manner, she’s done an exemplary job as CEO in my absence and she deserves your respect. As she takes on her new role as a fellow board member, you will give her that respect, because she’s earned it.”

“Jonathan, I never - ”

“I don’t need your explanations. I’ve heard everything I care to hear on the subject from Mrs. Hart. Accept the terms, or don’t – it’s your choice. If you can’t rein it in then I’ll be prepared to accept your resignation at any time. Not only have you expressed an unacceptable level of interest in my wife, but you also went along with Dick Eames in his attempt to discredit her and take over the running of _our_ company. Believe me, I was quite close to booting you to the curb along with Eames, who’s lucky not to be facing criminal charges. You actually have a long way to go to prove to me that you deserve to remain on the board at all.”

Stan could tell from the steely look in Hart’s eyes that he would brook no objections, and he refrained from making a joking comment, as he usually would have, that one couldn’t blame a man for trying…clearly Hart could, and would. So he agreed to tone down his admiration and give things another try with the board. He left with as much dignity as he could muster.

Jonathan just heaved a sigh, fingers tapping on his desk as he watched the man leave while wondering if he’d been wise to keep him around. But, he supposed, time would tell, and in the meantime he hoped to have nipped Robertson’s most disagreeable habit in the bud.

“Hey, why the frown?” Jennifer asked as she came in. Jonathan looked up, the crease in his brow melting away at the sound of her voice, and the sight of her lovely smile as she crossed the room, bypassing the chair and circling the desk to greet him with a kiss. “Does it have anything to do with Stan Robertson, who I just saw fleeing your office?”

“Fleeing, huh?”

“Mhmm, I’d say so,” she said.

“Well, let’s just say that we had a chat and while he will remain on the board for a trial period, he shouldn’t be bothering you anymore.”

She smiled broadly at him and said, “Oh, well, he did look rather spooked when he saw me. What did you do - challenge him to a duel?”

“Well, no, not yet, but it’s not a bad idea if he can’t tone it down a few notches. So, Darling, please let me know if he crosses the line in any way.”

“I certainly will,” she said with a laugh. “What’ll it be – swords or pistols?”

“Arm wrestling,” he replied, also chuckling now and feeling better. Remembering something, he waved now toward the desk, saying, “See anything different?”

She looked over the desk, a bit confused, until her eyes landed on a new telephone, sitting on the opposite side of the desk from the usual one. “What’s this?” she asked.

“It’s our new private line – unlisted, unknown to any but a very select few. I wanted to be certain you can reach me at any time.”

She smiled as he handed her a small note with the new number on it. “Well, Darling, I don’t know if it was necessary, but thank you. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“It was necessary. I don’t want anything getting in the way – if you need me for any reason at all, just call, and I’ll answer.” She smiled as he came out from behind the desk and reached for her, pulling her into his arms.

“Come on – let’s go home, shall we?” he said, looking deeply into her eyes.

“But the day’s only half over – surely you have a lot to catch up on?” she asked, but she couldn’t help being pleased with the idea of playing hooky with him, as her arms went around his neck and she settled comfortably into his embrace.

“Nothing that can’t wait another day – maybe two. It seems my replacement did an excellent job while I was away. Besides, my doctor said I was to take it easy for a while.”

“Did she now? I thought she gave you a clean bill of health,” she said with a concerned look.

“Oh, she did – but she also said not to overdo it, and I intend to obey. In fact, I believe that a little more bed rest may be in order.”

“Bed rest, hmm? I think I like the sound of that,” she said, a twinkle in her eyes now at the prospect.

“Me too,” he said, his voice, as usual, sending a thrill through her. His eyebrows, always so expressive, rose questioningly as he looked at her before leaning in close to kiss her lips softly, lingeringly. It was a kiss that held promise of good things to come, and when it ended and she opened her eyes, she knew she would find his blue ones poring deeply, passionately, into her own. She wasn’t disappointed, and with some difficulty she at last broke eye contact and glanced toward the door, a smile lighting up her features and causing his pulse to race, his chest to tighten in happiness.

Linking her arm through his, she enquired, “Shall we?”

He just nodded, his eyes sparkling, and, as one, they turned toward home.

_The End_


End file.
